Empire State of Mind
by AgentB81
Summary: AU Two very different young women find themselves in the big city of New York about to embark on the biggest career moves of their lives, Santana a chef and Brittany a Broadway newbie, how will their paths cross?. Brittana Femslash!
1. Prologue  Make or Break

It was a cold, blustery, typical January New York day. The sky was grey with the ever present threat of snow or rain. Tall, threatening buildings towered over the sidewalks, casting ominous shadows to the pedestrians below, briefly providing a welcomed respite from the biting winds. It was a day for warm woollen coats, fluffy hats, thick gloves, and hugging scarves. The chill factor was certainly prevailing, not caring for its countless sufferers. But it was a part of the charm. The weather of New York was as mainstay as the abundance of attractions. Today was no different. As the darkness descended into light through the break of dawn, for some the day was just ending, for others, it was just the beginning.

Today was the big day.

For two people, today was set to catapult them into the rest of their lives. On opposite sides of the City, slept two different individuals, about to embark on the biggest day of their careers so far. This was make or break for both them.

**Make.**

The brunette stirred, she had endured a restless night of tossing and turning. She had only been in the city for several weeks and it was a vast difference to the lifestyle she had become accustomed to in Los Angeles. The opposite side of the country. She had flown in from a warm sunny climate to what can only be described as arctic conditions. The moment Santana Lopez stepped through the automatic doors of JFK airport, she had come to realise the pilot was indeed right with his weather report. So far, she has yet to even glimpse the big orange ball of fire in the sky, home seemed so far away. Thinking of golden sands, blue oceans and tropical palm trees, Santana sighed, her mind coming to focus as her eyes fluttered open. Turning over, she glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was far too early; in her line of work Santana was used to late nights and late mornings. Until recently, she had forgotten this time of the day even existed. Reaching over toward the clock, she hit a button to prevent the alarm from sending a deafening shrill throughout the room.

It was going to be a long day – that much she could predict. She had to get to work early, ensure all the plans were in place, that everything she needed had been ordered and delivered and was up to the standard she expected, or rather, demanded. Santana had learnt her trade in Europe, ever thankful for the funds her parents afforded her. The Latina had spent the latter part of her teens training to become a chef. She had always harboured a love for food, her parents hectic lifestyle often meant she ate well at fine restaurants. The older she became, the more her interest grew, although obsession may have been a more accurate word to describe her passion, particularly when she managed to get herself a job in one of her favourite eateries as a kitchen hand at the age of sixteen. It was something she had argued with her parents about. They were adamant she didn't need a job and should concentrate on her studies, however, the ever argumentative and stubborn young Latina debated her cause, citing it was the career she desired. Eventually her parents relented. Her father insisting it was good for their daughter to have a passion that didn't include parties and boys, like other girls her age. It was not 'cool' according to her peers. She endured the usual teasing and verbal bashing by her schoolmates, but the brunette was determined and knew she could carve herself a very illustrious career if she applied herself.

Santana Lopez was now in New York for a reason. She was there to further her career and to take the next step. The Latina had built up quite a reputation in Los Angeles, working for some of the finest restaurants in the region and had happened to be in the right place at the right time when she was offered a lucrative job as head chef in a top New York restaurant. She was leaving her life behind. Not only did the Latina have her family close by, she had built up a close knit group of friends, albeit a small group – her working hours were far from sociable – so it made sense for her friends to be in the catering business. The chef had a mantra – that attachment was something she could not afford. Throughout her training, it was drummed into her that regular hours were but a dream, however, Santana had the personality to cope with that. She had grown up an only child, her parents working constantly. It was something the girl had deemed normal.

It was her ferocious and fiery personality and her determination to succeed that had gotten her into this position, as well as an immense amount of hard work. It did not mean the Latina never had her doubts or her worries, of course she did, she was as human as the next person, and that is how she had found herself this very morning. Insecurity was a word Santana kept close to her chest. It really only prevailed in her personal life, although these days, that was somewhat lacking. In the kitchen however, the Latina commanded it like a General commanded his troops. She was respected. She was confident. She was firm with her staff, yet fair and her creative ability was an admiration to those around her.

Today was the day. If she was going to make it to the big time, today was the start of that. Lifting her head from the comfort of the plush pillow, it felt heavy and somewhat sluggish. Santana needed to be on her game today. Steadying her hands on the mattress, she lifted her stiff shoulders and sat up, the duvet pooling at her waist. She shivered at the instant cold that hit her torso, the heating not quite having had enough time to circulate. Pyjamas were not something the Latina had in her wardrobe, although now she believed she and the garment would become very good friends over the next few months. However, she had yet to purchase any, her days and nights having been spent working furiously over creating a new menu and selecting products for the restaurant. The only people the brunette had encountered were the staff at the restaurant. They seemed to be friendly enough, some fairly anxious and wary of their new boss. There were whispers of a fierce reputation, of a strict demeanour, although truth be told, Santana was of the school of earning respect and it was a two way thing.

The Latina placed her bare feet on the hardwood floor, a quick reminder to herself to purchase a rug, and made her way to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she waited for the water to heat up, leaning her hands on the bathroom sink and staring intently at herself in the mirror before her. What she saw was someone slightly different to what she was used to. Santana knew she should be excited – a new city, a new job, it was a big adventure. However, grey skies and the hustle and bustle of busy people was tainting it for her slightly. She looked at the slight darkness beneath her eyes and squinted, lines forming, adding to the aging process. She was still young, yet the crazy hours and stressful kitchen had begun to take their toll. Sometimes she wondered if it was all worth it, particularly on mornings like this, then she would be in her kitchen, wielding her knife, carefully placing food on a plate, creating a piece of art and it was then she knew the answer. That yes, it was indeed worth it, particularly when she would see the smiles and hear the satisfactory groans and words of praise from her patrons. If it was one emotion over any Santana was feeling, it was loneliness, she smiled sadly at herself in the mirror as it clouded over with steam. She stood tall, took a deep breath and stepped into the hot spray, taking the opportunity to wash away any worries or doubts. Today was hers and if treated right, it would make her.

**Break.**

The blonde yawned, her arms stretched upwards yelping slightly as her fingers came into contact with the wooden headboard. Laying her hands to rest safely on her stomach she sighed with contentment. New York was a city she had always had an affinity with. She had been a fleeting visitor several times but now she was here for at least a six month stint. She was looking forward to spending time exploring the city, if or when she had time of course. She turned over onto her side and snuggled deeper into the duvet. The cold mornings was something she was more than willing to put up with for this was a part of the charm of Manhattan. Brittany Pierce lay relaxed, smiling wistfully to herself. She chanced a look at the aluminous numbers of the clock, knowing full well it was still early. The room was dark and there was yet to be any sign of daylight. She lay there a little longer, enjoying the feel of the comforter over her body, for she knew the moment she threw it back, the cold would hit her.

Brittany had been preparing for this day for months. She had put her body through an incredible regimen of constant training and rehearsing. The blonde felt ready, itching to get started. The last couple of months had been leading to this day. It had been something she had dreamed of since she was a little girl, putting on shows for her family and coaxing her friends to join her routines in recess, now was her chance. Brittany had the luxury of incredibly supportive parents who had put up with constant travelling for shows, last minute costume alterations and affording the best training available to the young blonde. Brittany owed her parents everything, they had put up with her tantrums and disappointments but like their daughter had never given up on her dream and now here she was, being rewarded for her talent and her persistence. Brittany Pierce was a performer, from a small town in Ohio, she had big dreams and having trekked thousands of miles upon leaving school, she was accepted and enrolled at a performing arts college in London, where she would perfect her art of dancing and learn the trade of being a West End performer. Whilst it was difficult for the dancer to settle at first, she persevered and subsequently reaped the illustrious rewards. It was both physically and emotionally challenging, yet she was a very determined young woman and by applying herself and constantly putting herself in a learning environment, she knew she would one day make it.

Brittany Pierce was in New York for a reason. She was there to further her career and to take the next step. Much like thousands of other hopefuls this magical city enticed. The blonde had worked tirelessly to build her reputation in the West End, attending audition after audition, taking any small part that would come her way until she slowly progressed up the ranks. She had felt it was fate when as an understudy she was called up one night when the lead had suddenly taken ill. Little did she know there was one person in the audience that would change her life. Several weeks later, Brittany found herself on a plane to New York City having been asked to audition for a part in a new musical on Broadway. It was due to her undoubted talent and incredible fresh outlook and modern take on theatre that swung her the part. She was fresh to the scene, had worked with some of the most famous names in the West End where she had learnt her trade and was deemed an asset to the production.

Brittany Pierce was a naturally positive and cheerful person, always seeing the good in people and often placing trust too easily. Many a time she had learnt the hard way that people were not always what they seemed, particularly in the business where she worked. While she was a generous young woman, the dancer had learned to put herself first and had proved vital in the progression of her career. It was difficult not to like the bubbly infectious blonde, she was everybody's friend, and whilst she wasn't the most academic of people, it didn't bother her. She knew she was good at her job, she oozed confidence on the stage and felt blessed to have people around her who would thrive off of her positive energy.

Today was the day. If she was going to break into the Broadway elite, today was the start of that. Feeling excited by the prospect, she sat up with a renewed energy, stretched her arms above her head and stretched out the kink in her shoulders. Any aches or pains would have to be gone if she were to put in a stellar performance. Shivering slightly at the ghost of cool air that swept across her bare shoulders, she made a mental note to wear more clothes to bed the next night. Either that or adjust the timer on her central heating. Her thoughts drifted to the day ahead, to the friends she had already made on the cast and crew of the show. She smiled profusely. This was what dreams were made of and now she was living it. Her parents would arrive in town later on in the morning for her opening show and they were to meet for celebratory drinks and a bite to eat afterwards. Brittany was beyond excited. This city promised so much for her. She had moved to the city several weeks prior to Christmas for rehearsals before returning to Ohio for the festive break. Now she was back and raring to go.

The dancer jumped out of bed and padded across the carpeted floor to the large window, drawing back the heavy curtains and gasping at the view that befell her as the material was swept aside. The dawn morning draped the city, the lilac sky a picture of beauty. Brittany smiled, noting the similarities between New York and London, yet both remained entirely dissimilar. One thing you could guarantee in both cities in January was the cold weather. The blonde did not pay particular mind to what the weather was doing at any point. She enjoyed dressing for the occasion and having a chance to show off her multitude of hats, scarves and gloves. Yes, winter was an opportunity, not a hindrance. One thing the dancer would really like to keep her warm was another body. She longed for the closeness of one special person, the thought of long walks in the park on a Sunday frequently occupied her mind, however, with her busy schedule and lack of contact with the outside world, she was lacking in that department. Sure she was not short of offers in the business – it wasn't that she was particularly choosey – she just either was not interested or simply could not find the time. She sighed heavily, she was living her dream in one sense, maybe anything else would just be too much to ask for. However, right now she had more important thoughts on her mind, taking one last glance at the spectacular city, Brittany turned and walked over to the bathroom, a shower is exactly what she needed to set her up for the day. Today was hers and if treated right, it would be her break.

...

For two people, today would change their lives forever.


	2. Sweat and Tears

The perspiration formed at her brow, the day had been long, preparations were limitless and this was barely the beginning. She sighed with frustration, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead as she sat down for the first time that day. One hour till show time. One hour till years of hard work would finally and hopefully pay off. Hope. That was one thing that prospered, lingered, it was a constant, no matter what happened, there was always hope. Even through the blood, sweat and tears, there was hope.

**Sweat**

It was hot. A vast difference to the climate outside of the confines of the restaurant. Santana was used to the heat of the kitchen, normally she would acclimatise fairly quickly, however the added pressure, the constant running around with last minute preparations had her body temperature soaring higher than usual. She felt stifled, suffocated even. The first moment she had, the brunette stripped off her apron and headed toward the fire exit. Her whole body weight pressed against the bar on the door in desperation, the cold air hitting her like a freight train. She was stunned by the sudden coolness, taking a deep breath, inhaling the less than fresh air. This was a well built city after all. She felt the caress of the air over her arms, the faint hairs standing on end in protest. Folding her arms over her chest she set her back against the rough brick wall, her head falling back and eyes closing for a moment's peace. The Latina smiled at the irony as she heard the distant sound of sirens, the constant honking of car horns and the unique hum that was Manhattan. It was so detached from her life in Los Angeles, yet there was something so warming, so familiar about it all, perhaps it was the New York charm she had heard so much about.

Slinking down the wall Santana sat on an empty crate, her elbows rested on her knees and she slowly placed her head in her hands. Closing her eyes for a second time, the Latina sighed heavily. It had already been a long day, yet there was so much more to come. All the initial preparation was complete. The brunette was elated with the team effort of the kitchen staff and equally impressed with the encouragement and help from the wait staff also. So far, so very good, however, she firmly believed this could very well be the calm before the storm. Today she had learnt a lot about her work colleagues, despite having spent time with them previously, today was the day that would test her tolerance. She knew the real test would happen as soon as the doors opened for evening service, the introduction of the new menu. She was prepared for a barrage of complaints from regulars, people expecting to see their favourite dishes on the menu. However, it was Santana's intention to create an exciting menu full of new favourites.

She froze momentarily upon hearing the squeak of an un-oiled door, followed by a nervous shuffling. Rolling her eyes at the moment she knew she had been interrupted, she turned her head to the intruder.

"Santana?" the voice asked, an air of confidence washing through the other person. "What are you doing out here?" Santana sighed, she briefly cast her eyes towards the grey angry skies before returning her attention to the only other person in the alley.

"I was hot." she stated simply with a shrug.

"If you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen right?" Santana smirked, there was only one person she had come across at the restaurant with enough bravado to _almost_ match hers.

"Touché Quinn." replied the Latina with a small laugh. The blonde smiled sweetly and stepped further into the alley.

"I thought you chef types were like heat resistant or something."

"I thought you blonde types were less," the brunette waved her hand in the air, urging herself to conjure an appropriate description, "inquisitive." Quinn laughed at the Latina's response. Santana smiled, she liked Quinn, they had immediately warmed to one another, she could not deny that the blonde's sweet lazy smile and smouldering searching eyes had immediately attracted her, but soon realised the restaurant manager would be the perfect person to challenge her professionally and become someone she could trust and rely on. Maybe further down the line they could be friends, she thought fleetingly. The blonde had somehow appeared next to her on the crate, bumping her shoulder and hip along to give her more space.

"I'm not your typical blonde." Quinn finally replied with a small smile. Santana's heart raced a little, noticing the challenging glint in the other woman's eyes. Flummoxed slightly, she was unsure how to respond, she smiled widely, it was a useful gap filler, it would buy her a couple of seconds as she thought of a quip.

"And I'm not your typical chef." struggling to keep her smile in place, the brunette mentally slapped herself for the lame response.

"Oh but I think you are." Quinn said with a gentle nod and a slightly raised eyebrow. Santana forced her gaze away from the alluring eyes and glanced at the blonde's folded hands resting in her lap atop her crossed legs. "You've done nothing to convince me otherwise Santana." The Latina was confused. She had to ask herself if the blonde beside her was flirting with her. She had a feeling that she could be, yet Quinn had always struck her as the professional type. In all actuality, Santana was certain the restaurant manager was straight. "You think too much." Quinn said, forcing confused brown eyes to meet her own. "You don't want frown lines to tarnish your pretty face." she said as she stood. Santana looked at her bewildered. "Come on, one hour till opening, you'll have plenty of time to think later." and with that, she watched as the other woman disappeared through the back door of the restaurant. Her gaze followed the empty path left from the blonde and Santana shook her head with a wry smile. Deciding to take Quinn's advice, the brunette stood and stretched out her legs, followed by her arms extending into the air. Taking one last deep breath of cool air, she headed for the door, preparing herself for the sauna she was about to step into.

The hour flew by in an instant, Quinn was right, Santana had little time to think, it was all business. She had re-entered the kitchen with her trademark stern face, masking whatever feelings she was harbouring underneath. It was a trick she had perfected over the years, having been an only child, followed by the constant disappointments and let downs in her social life had taught to not be so open and welcoming. She could and she would blame her profession. The anti social hours and her ambition had often caused her hurt in relationships with the people around her. She flitted easily from one friendship group to another, mainly through the jobs she had taken, not really settling in for them to be lasting friendships. It took time for her to be able to form new bonds and trust people, yet here she was, gazing at a blonde who could potentially break her cycle. Or maybe, she was drawn to Quinn because the manager was the same age as her, had a similar air of confidence and appeared to be as equally ambitious.

Santana had just ended a meeting with the restaurant staff, finalising dish details and preparing the wait staff and Maitre d. She had quickly earned the respect of the workers, something which made her smirk with pride, she had perfected that over the years and had consequently risen through the ranks fairly quickly, doubled with her culinary and creative abilities. Her eyes surveyed the number of faces before her. The Latina had learnt names and faces quickly, even picking up on strengths and weaknesses, utilising the former in order to benefit both herself and the restaurant. She was a natural leader. The brunette cast an eye to her left, briefly looking at Quinn before her gaze fell on the Matre d immediately beside her.

"The floor is yours Mr Hummel." she smiled warmly.

"Thank you Chef." Kurt replied with a small blush, accompanied by a smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have just one thing to say, it's show time!" he dramatically threw his hands in the air, throwing his head back in the process. Kurt Hummel was a performer, his role as Matre d only temporary as each day he would attend a performing arts college, perfecting his talent. Kurt believed he belonged on the stage and was hoping that someday soon, his opportunity would arise. The Latina had taken an instant shine to the young man, he dreamt big and had travelled thousands of miles to a foreign city in order to realise those dreams. He had reminded her of herself, travelling to Europe to master the craft she so strongly felt was her fate. As everyone drifted off into their sections, the Latina placed a hand on Kurt's jacket sleeve. His eyes immediately darted to the foreign hand on his arm, a wave of disgust shot across his gaze before he realised who the hand belonged to. He quickly smiled, almost apologetically as he met the stern brown eyes of the chef.

"Hey," she began, "don't be nervous." the Latina reassured, sensing a slight air of uneasiness.

"I'm not, just excited." Kurt replied. The brunette narrowed her eyes suspiciously but let it slide and decided to change the subject having noticed a distinct lack of interruptions during her pep talk.

"Where's the midget?" Santana asked with complete seriousness. Kurt cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Are you referring to Rachel?" he asked carefully. Santana rolled her eyes at the Matre d's response.

"Is she the short one with the big mouth and the even bigger ego?" Santana asked with a lilt.

"Well, yes. She's at the opening of a new Broadway show, but . . ." Kurt began, his gaze becoming more curious the more he thought about Santana's question. "Why do you care where she is?" The head chef shrugged nonchalantly, before a look of careless disdain spread across her face.

"One diva on duty tonight is enough." she replied with a smirk. Kurt feigned shock, placing a melodramatic hand over his heart, however, it soon turned into a hundred watt smile.

"I will take that as a compliment."

"Of course you will." the brunette began, "You types are all the same." she said without mirth. No sooner had the words left the Latina's mouth had Kurt's own gaped in horror. Santana's eyes widened, she too latching on to the words that she had moments ago spilled. Her hands shot up in front of her, assuming a defensive stance, her head shaking from side to side, her ponytail swishing in motion.

"Ohmygod." A voice interrupted. Two heads spun to meet the intruder.

"No, no, no," Santana vocalised, "I swear that's not what I meant." she said in haste.

"Then what did you mean Santana?" Quinn asked, her arms folded firmly across her chest. Kurt waited patiently for the answer. He was shocked to hear the words leave Santana's mouth, he knew she could be harsh, he had witnessed the brunette reduce a kitchen hand to tears, but that was work and Santana was a diehard professional. Perhaps that was another reason why he was so surprised, she had made it personal. Or so he thought.

"Theatre types." The brunette all but yelled forcefully, willing to get her point across. A momentary silence was followed by a chorus of 'oh's'. "I can't believe you thought . . . ." Santana trailed off, slightly hurt. Kurt shrugged.

"If I'm completely honest? I didn't know what to think Chef." he replied, his hands waving around with uncertainty. "You're all business, all of the time. You haven't shown any of us any humility at all. So what are we supposed to think?"

"That's not strictly true." Quinn stepped in, her feet shuffling nervously, avoiding eye contact. "She's ok you know?" the blonde said, finally lifting her eyes, offering a small shy smile to the brunette.

"Oh that's great, it's opening night, she's been here what? Three weeks? And only now we're finding out she's ok? After inadvertently insulting me and my _type_." rambled Kurt, Quinn and Santana shared a bewildered look, the restaurant manager shrugging her ignorance. Without waiting for a response he continued, "You know Chef," he directed at Santana, "we respect you, you have proved your talent, you're a great leader, but you need to show some sort of human emotion, interact a little more with the staff because otherwise, misunderstandings like these happen." he paused, "I'm not asking you to share your deepest darkest secrets, but we're like family here, we work in a highly pressurised environment. We have to trust one another and above all, accept one another." Quinn's narrowed eyes were trained on the brunette, intrigued how she would react to Kurt's words. The chef was unreadable, when Kurt was met with silence, he winced slightly, worrying he had overstepped the mark. Santana after all harboured a reputation for being all work and no play. The brunette stood hands on hips, head cocked to the side, her pony tail hung still behind her. She was emotionless and guarded, like she had been since arriving in New York. She had always been careful around new people, slowly building her trust for fear of being let down like she had many times in the past.

"Are you done?" she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest, a stern frown blanketed her features. Her words elicited a small nod from the boy before her. "What was that? Your next audition monologue?" Santana's attempt at humour died on her lips, it was not something her new colleagues were accustomed to and so took the chef at her word.

"Erm, no I just . . ."

"Relax Hummel. I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers." she said, her hand shot up once again, "That pun wasn't intended." she said, Quinn stifled a giggle beside her.

"Noted." Kurt said, his nose turned up slightly. "You're a hard one to figure out." he mumbled quietly. The Latina's frown remained, a sadness quickly glazed over her eyes before they hit the floorboards, the grainy wood suddenly appearing to be more interesting than she had imagined. The silence was deafening, Quinn looked to Kurt who shrugged and shook his head, unsure of what to say or do next. Santana carefully went through a very specific thought process, it felt as though time had stilled, she had many a time freely spoken the words that she was battling so hard against at that very moment. Eventually she looked up into two pairs of inquisitive, nervous eyes, awaiting some sort of a response. Her heart lay heavy in her chest, she felt like a foreigner in this city, yet these people she had spent a considerable amount of her waking day with for the past several weeks. She had picked up on quirks and behaviours, knew how certain people would react by the way she spoke to them. Every day she had learnt something new about each of her colleagues and to her it was endearing, yet, she had given very little away herself. If anything, Santana had created her own foreign identity, a secret identity. Kurt was right, she was always careful of trusting others, always seeking reassurances from them and wanting to learn more about them, but how could anyone trust her if she never gave a little rope herself?

"Look," Santana stated with a heavy sigh, her arms unfolded, falling heavily to her sides, she leaned in glancing sideways before settling her eyes on the Matre d, in a hushed tone she spoke again, "I'm gay, ok? It's not something I hide but I don't let it define me either. It's hard enough being a female in a male dominated profession, I've been bullied and ridiculed as much as anyone, but when I'm at work, I'm a chef. I create food and I love my job. I'm sorry if I seemed unapproachable or even guarded, but I've had to be to get this far." she risked a look at the blonde beside her, Quinn's mouth was agape slightly, her eyes questioning yet portrayed an element of understanding. Looking at Kurt, she saw nothing but admiration.

"You didn't have to say that." he said. The brunette shrugged.

"I did." Santana said with a small affirming nod, as much for herself than for anyone else.

"Thank you." Kurt replied with a warm smile. Quinn watched the interaction between her two colleagues with a renewed interest.

"What for?"

"For being you." he stated simply. Santana laughed nervously.

"Back home it wasn't a big deal, but everything is new here and I'm sorry if I appear void of human emotion, but I can assure you, it's solely because of human emotion that I am the way I am."

"Wow." Quinn said quietly, "Santana Lopez, I think I just learnt more about you in the last ten minutes than I have the last three weeks."

"Don't get used to it Fabray, you either Hummel. Now get your ass over to that door, customers are waiting."

"Arh, there's the chef we know and love." Kurt joked, slapping Santana playfully on the back.

"Watch it Hummel." she seethed as she turned toward the kitchen door, she could hear the Matre d make his way over to the front the front door, donning his professional persona. "Good evening and welcome. This is Empire State of Mind." was the last thing Santana heard as the door closed behind her.

**Tears**

She sat in front of the mirror, the bright lights highlighting the tiredness of her eyes, the fatigue she was feeling following an incredible day of final rehearsals and preparation before gracing the stage for the opening night. And what a night. This had been her dream for years. Her mind drifted back to a morning in kindergarten, spinning around freely, laughing as she spun out of control and landed firmly on her backside. Movement had always been something Brittany was good at. She was a fidgety child, always having to be doing something, unable to sit still for any amount of time. The small blonde was a little bundle of energy and her parents had desperately tried everything to calm the girl down, or at least, put that energy to good use. It was one autumn Saturday afternoon in the Pierce's garage, Ray Pierce had his head buried under the hood of his vintage Chevy, his little blonde assistant occasionally passing tools to her father. The radio blared out classic tunes, it was Ray's ideal afternoon, working on his hobby, spending time with his daughter and listening to his favourite music. It was when he asked for a cloth and received no response that he frowned and cautiously removed himself from the car. "Brittany?" he called, only to be met with joyful giggles. Following the sounds, he rounded the car, his heart melting at the sight. Little Brittany Pierce was dancing in the middle of the garage, waving her arms, shaking her booty and occasionally jumping up and down. Ray smiled at the sight before him, the proverbial light bulb pinging in his head. 'I think we've found a way to utilise that energy.'

Ever thankful to her parents, Brittany smiled at her own reflection, tears stinging her eyes slightly as they threatened to spill from her eyes. The air in the room changed, it somehow seemed warmer, recognising the atmosphere and the familiar feeling throughout her being, the very man who had featured in Brittany's reverie appeared behind her in the mirror, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.

"You were wonderful pumpkin." The star leapt up out of her seat and spun around into her father's waiting arms.

"Daddy." she sighed, loosing herself in the giant cuddle. If anyone were ever to be described as a daddy's girl, it was Brittany Pierce. She would forever follow him around like a lost puppy when she was younger, always intrigued in whatever he was doing. Her mother would often watch with a doting adoration, knowing she and her daughter shared their own special bond, particularly when it came to dancing.

It had been her mother's own dream to become a dancer throughout high school. Forever entering and succeeding in competition, however due an unfortunate set of circumstances involving a cheerleading pyramid and an untimely tumble meant the elder blonde would never dance the same again. Valerie Pierce had the utmost respect for her daughter. Never once had she pushed Brittany into pursuing a career in dance, however, the overwhelming sense of pride she felt every time she watched her daughter grace the stage enveloped her completely. "Brittany." she said quietly, causing the blonde to drop her arms from around her father.

"Momma." Brittany whispered with raw emotion. She knew this day was as big for her mother as it was for her. Not a day passed without her being eternally grateful to have her family around her and they were a tight family unit. She flung her arms tightly around her mother, pulling her close, her eyes scrunching shut for fear of her emotions taking over. The elder blonde mirrored Brittany's actions, only a small sob escaped her trembling lips. "Momma," the dancer repeated, mumbling against her mother's ear, "shh it's ok." she smiled.

"I know sweetheart." Valerie replied, she gently tugged away, her finger swiping at the lone tear from her eye. "I'm just so proud of you." she concluded, smiling through obvious emotional turmoil. Her reward was a beaming smile from her daughter.

"I love you Mom." The blonde swayed slightly on the spot, she had changed into a casual pair of jeans, a simple white t-shirt, her hair hung long over her shoulders.

"I love you too sweetheart." Valerie couldn't help the now free flowing tears, her husband sidled up to her and swung a comforting arm around her shoulders, squeezing Valerie into his side and placed a sweet kiss atop her head.

"Can't take her anywhere huh?" he said, with a quick raise of the eyebrow. Brittany giggled and threw herself at her parents for an impromptu group hug. The young blonde dancer was not one to shed a tear easily, however it was moments like these, spent alone with her parents that made her appreciate them so much more and how lucky she was to be in the situation she now found herself. Reluctantly, the trio pulled apart, Valerie wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Ray's hand not wavering from her shoulder, showering her with the love and support as much now as he had thirty years previous when they first met. "Where do you want to eat sweetheart?" he asked, his question pointed toward Brittany. She looked thoughtful for a moment before her eyes widened and she jumped up and down excitedly.

"Oh, oh." she squealed, waving her arms about excitedly, her parents watching adoringly, "You know where I want to eat." she grinned.

"Well grab your coat then sweetheart." Ray said. Before guiding his girls out of the room, "Hope you girls are hungry."

They walked the short block to the restaurant, Brittany bouncing along, exuding as much energy as a playful puppy. She was flanked by her parents, their arms linked forming a human chain covering half the sidewalk much to the chagrin of a number of passing New Yorkers. However, the Pierce's were blissfully unaware of any annoyed stares and angry murmurs as they rounded the corner and were faced with their destination. Standing before the huge glass windows, Brittany stared at the restaurant's sign in bright lights and sighed happily. 'Empire State of Mind'. It promised everything New York, a unique mix of cultures in one place. Letting go of her parent's arms, the blonde excitedly bounced through the welcoming doors.

"Good evening, welcome to Empire State of Mind, how can we help you this evening ma'am?" the Matre d politely asked.

"Can we get a table for three please?" Ray asked.

"Coming right up sir."

"It's like really busy tonight." Brittany observed.

"Not your first time?" Kurt asked warmly, weaving through tables to a vacant spot.

"We came here a few times on our last visit before Christmas." Valerie explained as they came to a halt. Setting the menus down on the table, Kurt smiled at the obvious excitement and exuberance of the young blonde woman. Ever the epitome of exceptional customer service, the Matre d continued the conversation.

"Are you here for a special occasion?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Brittany as she sat herself at the ivory clothed table.

"We just watched our little girl in her opening Broadway show." Ray announced proudly, patting his girl on the back with affection and pride.

"Fabulous!" Kurt said with equal fervour. An aspiring Broadway star himself, he was eager to mix in said circles. "Well let me get you a bottle of our finest Champagne, on the house." he offered with enthusiasm.

"Oh I don't know . . ." Valerie began.

"Nonsense," Kurt replied with a wave of the hand. "We pride ourselves at being at the heart of Broadway and often have cast and crew dining here. It's a major selling point for patrons."

"Is that why you're so busy, I mean, it's like eleven o'clock." Kurt smiled at the dancer's words. "It wasn't so busy the last time." the Matre d held a finger and an eyebrow in the air as if he were about to explain.

"Miss?"

"Pierce."

"Miss Pierce," the young aspiring actor began, as if starting a fairy tale, "today we have introduced a new menu. We have an incredibly talented new head chef who has revitalised the restaurant to bring it back to its full glory."

"Oh." Brittany said with a slight frown, much to Kurt's dismay, "Does that mean no spaghetti meatballs?"

"Unfortunately that dish is no longer on the menu." he stated sadly, feeling the girl's disappointment.

"Don't worry honey, they'll be something else you like." Ray encouraged, his hand tapping the top of his daughter's. Kurt watched in awe as Brittany's eyes flickered from sadness to reassured.

"You are such an adorable family." the boy stated. "Now, let me fetch you your Champagne, your waiter will be over shortly to take your order." Valerie placed a hand on Kurt's arm and read his name tag before lifting her baby blue eyes to meet his.

"Thank you Kurt." she replied with a warm genuine smile. She was elated to be here with here in such a big foreign city with her family, yet so far she had never felt so at home.

"It was fabulous, and the lead, what a gamble, she was marvellous, a relative unknown but I've heard wonderful reviews about her, she was starting to make a name for herself in the West End when she was spotted and here she is. I mean, I know talent when I see it and she is one to watch."

"Does she have a name?" Kurt asked with his back to the petite brunette, pulling three champagne flutes from the shelf and examining the cleanliness, occasionally wiping the edge with a cloth. Rachel Berry sat animatedly at the bar, sipping on a Martini, enjoying being a customer for the evening.

"Yes, of course, she's called Brittany Pierce and she's . . . right over there, holy crap. How's my hair?"

"Your hair's fine, but I think you have a touch of verbal diarrhoea." Santana said as she took a seat beside the waitress. Rachel scoffed and turned her attention back to the drink before her.

"Shouldn't you be in the kitchen?"

"Ever heard of a Sous Chef Berry?" Santana grinned.

"Surely you can't expect Finn to do all of the cooking, I mean look at this place, it's amazingly full for this time of night."

"What can I say? It's my amazing talent bringing in the hoards."

"Well I can't deny you have talent Santana." The Latina rolled her eyes and jumped off the bar stool, rounding the bar to pour herself an orange juice, just as Kurt picked up the Champagne in the cooler.

"Where's that going?" Santana asked casually. Kurt nodded over to the table of three. The Latina followed his gaze, her eyes landing on the family.

"To our newest Broadway celebrity." he grinned before turning to Rachel, a firm glare now in place, "You, stay away." he stated with a sense of urgency. Santana smirked as she brushed passed the pair and headed toward the kitchen.

As Kurt placed the Champagne and glasses on the table, the waiter appeared, his uniform, black slacks, white buttoned shirt with black tie and black waistcoat, in keeping with the white and black theme of the restaurant.

"Hi I'm Artie, I will be your waiter this evening." he said, smiling brightly at Brittany. "What can I get for you?" his pad and pen poised in his hands.

"I want spaghetti." Brittany stropped.

"I'm sorry Miss, spaghetti is no longer an option on the menu, may I suggest the

Tagliatelle Alfredo?"

"I don't know what you just said." Brittany said sincerely.

"It's Tagliattelle pasta with strips of chicken in a cream and mushroom sauce." Artie replied.

"That sounds good, I'll have that." Ray jumped in.

"I prefer tomato based sauces with my pasta." Brittany replied thoughtfully.

"There are other things on the menu honey." Valerie suggested.

"I know," the blonde sighed, "I really built up an appetite for pasta."

"Then may I suggest Linguine alla Siciliana." Upon seeing the blonde's confused expression once again, Artie continued, "It's pasta strips with mixed peppers,

aubergine, courgette and black olives in a tomato and basil sauce." he explained, as he subtly pushed his glasses further up his nose. He found it increasingly difficult to tear his eyes away from the blonde beauty. "It's the chef's special."

"Ok." Brittany agreed with a defeated shrug, handing her menu across the table.

"I'll have the same." Valerie concluded.

"Very good ma'am, any starters or sides?" in reply to the waiter, Ray ordered several starters to share before he too handed his menu back to the waiter. Artie nodded with a smile, his eyes lingering on Brittany a little longer than he probably should have and left the table.

"Someone has a fan." Ray sniggered as the boy walked away.

"Oh shut up Dad." Brittany scolded, slapping her father lightly on the arm.

"I thought he was rather cute." chirped Valerie as she unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap in preparation for her food.

"You would." scoffed the dancer.

"Brittany." her father warned.

"I just," Brittany began, she sighed in frustration. "We've been through this before. No matchmaking mother." she warned.

"Now you have your career on track, I just want you to find a nice boy to settle down with."

"Or girl." Brittany stated. Valerie sighed, this had been the one thorn in the family's side. She accepted that the dancer was less than rigid in her choice of partner, yet it remained something Mrs Pierce had to get used to and occasionally her denial would seep out. Ignoring her daughter's statement, Valerie continued.

"You are going to have to be very careful who you liaise with now Brittany. You're going to become well known and some people will only be after one thing."

"Mom, I get it." her daughter began. Ray watched the exchange uncomfortably, he had never had a problem with Brittany's sexuality and had been a major player in slowly convincing Valerie to be more accepting, despite the fact she loved her daughter unconditionally. Valerie had been brought up a devout Christian, therefore her beliefs often bubbled to the surface, even when she did not want them to. Brittany wiped away a stray tear, thankful neither one of her parents noticed.

Dinner arrived, the two blonde's managed to push their differences aside and spoke of Brittany's performance and the show. The excitement and jovial mood returned, although a little tired and strained, it had been a long day for the trio. Half way through eating, their waiter interrupted.

"Is everything ok with the meals?" he asked.

"Seriously, this is the best food ever." Brittany exclaimed, Artie smiled lazily, proud of his recommendation, however the next words out of the dancer's mouth were not quite what he had wanted to hear. "Your new chef is amazing, please pass on my compliments." she said with sincerity.

"I shall."

"Can we meet the chef?" Ray asked enthusiastically, as the father a Broadway star, he thought it was a reasonable thing to ask.

"I shall see if that is feasible." Artie replied and turned toward the kitchen.

"I swear, I'm going to marry the chef, this food is amazing." Brittany cooed. Valerie smiled.

"Just what you need sweetheart, a good man to look after you . . ." the dancer was about to respond when Artie returned to the table.

"I'm sorry Chef Lopez is unable to leave the kitchen but appreciates your comments and we hope you return in the future." he said. "Can I get you any more drinks?"

"No thank you." Brittany replied abruptly. Artie turned and walked away, dejected, returning to the bar where he was accosted by one Rachel Berry.

"She's so hot." he dreamed, "But also kinda rude." Rachel snorted, causing a frown from the waiter, "What?"

"You're rude too Artie." Rachel slurred after several Maritini's, "Besides, she's a Broadway star now, or soon will be, it's part of the job description."

"What's your excuse?" Quinn asked as she swooped into the conversation, visibly annoyed by her colleague. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm having an after show drink."

"Or three." Sam the blonde shaggy haired barman retorted, Quinn offered him a sweet smile, who returned it tenfold.

"Can't I show a bit of support to my colleagues on launch night?" Rachel offered.

"Do you know what would have shown more support Rachel? Agreeing to work!" Quinn stated with slight disdain.

"I booked this day off months in advance, it's not my fault Chef extraordinaire chose this night to launch her new menu."

"Hey," Quinn began, her finger pointing accusingly in Rachel's face, "_Chef extraordinaire_ was brought in to save all our jobs."

"I," Rachel began, her hands up in defeat, "I didn't realise things got so bad."

"They weren't per se." Quinn replied, "but prevention's better than cure, right?"

"Right." Sam agreed, offering his boss support. The manager flashed him a grateful smile.

"Ok, now why is everyone gossiping, Artie, work, Sam, drinks for table 12, Berry, go home." the bossy blonde sighed and began to help clear tables, it was nearing closing after all and today had already been quite a trial.

Xxxx

Slowly Santana made her way out of the jail she had been confined to most of the day, having changed out of her whites, she now donned a comfortable pair of sweats and a hoody, her hair remained tied back in desperate need of a shower. She dragged her bag and coat behind her, having lost all energy to pick it up and sling it over her shoulder. When she reached the bar, she dropped her belongings on the floor next to a vacant stool and hoisted herself up, her head immediately dropping onto the cool surface. After a moment's silence, the clink of a bottle shocked her, made her jump a little, her eyes opened having closed automatically when her head had made contact with the bar.

"Long day?" she heard, an unfamiliar voice penetrating her mind. She frowned, her eyes heavy lidded, she slowly, painfully lifted her head and turned towards the voice.

"Err yeah." she replied huskily to the curious looking blonde two seats away.

"You look how I feel." she stated, sipping a clear liquid from a tumbler.

"Oh yeah? And how's that?" Santana asked curiously, her head now propped up on her hand, her elbow providing the support.

"Like you woke up before dawn and have just clocked off. In other words, like crap." the blonde shrugged.

"Is that so?" Santana smirked, "Very perceptive of you." Ordinarily, Santana would have been insulted by such words, but the blonde beside her held an air of innocence that the Latina found not only endearing, but mildly amusing also.

"The lady bought you a beer." Sam said, motioning to the bottle beside the chef. He turned and continued to clean up the bar for closing.

"Butter me up before an insult, I like your style." she said, taking a swig from the bottle. "Thanks." she said, tilting the beer toward the blonde.

"You're welcome." the blonde put her hand out. "Brittany." she said as the Latina accepted it and shook it. She nodded her head in understanding.

"Santana."

"You work here Santana?" Brittany asked.

"I do." replied the chef, taking another sip of beer.

"Do you know Chef Lopez?" Santana choked on her drink upon hearing her own name.

"Err yeah." Santana replied nervously. "That's me." she said. She watched as Brittany's eyes widened, much to the Latina's amusement. "Why do you ask?"

"My dad asked to meet you but you were too busy. We wanted to tell you how amazing your food is." the blonde explained nervously. Santana nodded in understanding.

"Arh yeah," she said, recalling the earlier request. "I was a little tied up. Sorry about that."

"Hey no," Brittany said, Santana's brown eyes followed the dancer's hand as she placed it on Santana's arm, "you don't have to apologise, I understand how busy you are. My dad thinks he can ask for anything now." she smiled adoringly at the thought of her father attempting to take advantage of Brittany's new fame.

"You had your first gig tonight right?" Santana asked, her eyes moving from the hand that remained on her arm to the questioning eyes of her companion. It was the first time Santana had truly looked at the blonde, her vision earlier, hazy and tired. Now it was like she was seeing for the first time, those blue eyes so captivating and clear, the blonde locks long and loose about the blonde's strong shoulders. The Latina suddenly felt nervous. She had never really struck up conversation so easily with someone upon their first meeting

"Yeah, how did . . ." the blonde began.

"Some of the guys were talking." Santana shrugged.

"Oh." Brittany replied, still slightly puzzled.

"Hey it's ok, it was all good, very complimentary." the Latina explained. As if gaining a mind of it's own, her hand slid off the brown glass bottle, causing the blonde's to jump from her arm and land on the bar. Santana's found itself atop the dancer's, squeezing it reassuringly, earning a shy tooth bearing grin from the blonde. "Where did your parents go?" Santana asked, briefly looking around the now empty restaurant.

"They went back to their hotel." Brittany said, "I needed some alone time to unwind before I head home."

"Understandable." Santana smiled. A hand smoothed its way across Santana's back, causing her stir a little, one glance sideways told her it was Quinn. The Latina snatched her hand away from Brittany, leaving the blonde dancer somewhat baffled.

"Hey," Quinn greeted. "You were amazing today." she said to the Latina.

"Thanks." Santana blushed, "You weren't so bad yourself." she flirted a little.

"Such a charmer Lopez." the manager giggled. She leaned across Santana, her arm and hand outstretched, "Hi, I'm Quinn Fabray, the restaurant manager." Brittany reluctantly took the other woman's hand in her own and shook it politely.

"Brittany Pierce."

"I know." Quinn smiled, "You have quite the fan club here already. I want to thank you for choosing to dine with us this evening and hopefully see you again soon."

"I have to." Brittany said, she motioned for Quinn to come closer before whispering in her ear. "I told my Mom I was going to marry the chef. Her food's so good, I bet she gets that a lot." she explained. Quinn couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips and nodded slightly, her eyes darted to a frowning Santana, too tired to put up any fight against the conspiracy that was happening before her. She placed her hands steadily on the bar and slipped off her seat.

"And that's my cue to go home. You want to share a cab Quinn?" the blonde glanced at Sam who returned a knowing smile, the brunette watched their exchange with interest.

"I err, I'm sharing a ride with Sam, we live real close." she explained. The Latina shrugged and bent over to pick up her belongings.

"I'll walk out with you." Brittany said, finishing up her drink, "If that's ok?"

"Sure." Santana shrugged, less than enthusiastically. "You can hail me a cab, because I doubt anyone would want to stop for me looking like crap."

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean . . ." Brittany began midway through hoisting her coat over her shoulders.

"I'm kidding." Santana smirked taking in the striking figure of the other woman. The blonde dancer sighed with relief and continued to dress herself in her winter coat. Santana followed suit, heaving her coat on and throwing her bag over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow guys." She called behind her. Ever the chivalrous one, the Latina opened the door for Brittany as they disappeared into the night air, both Quinn and Kurt exchanging secretive glances, daring the other to break with laughter first.

"Just because . . ." Quinn started.

"Doesn't mean . . ." Kurt continued, both on the same page.

"Right." they concluded together.

"Where are you headed?" Santana asked, afraid to send the blonde girl home alone so late in such a big city.

"Home." Brittany replied flatly. The brunette smiled at the honesty.

"Where's home?" the chef tried again, hugging her coat closer to her chest, her breath visible as it hit the cool air.

Brittany pondered for a moment, wondering if she should be freely sharing such information. Concluding that Santana did indeed seem genuine enough, she obliged. "Oh err, Chelsea. I have a small apartment." Sensing Brittany's hesitation, the brunette too revealed where she lived.

"I live in Greenwich Village, I'm not sure where Chelsea is." she said with a frown. She watched intently as the blonde was concentrated on hailing a cab, she looked like a pro.

"You haven't been here long." it was an observation more than a question. The Latina shook her head in confirmation.

"No." She said, just as a cab pulled up. The blonde opened the door and bundled in, before Santana could yell goodbye, Brittany popped her head back out of the door.

"Get in. You can drop me at my place on the way to yours." Santana shrugged, who was she to argue with a beautiful blonde? With one last look through the restaurant window, she could make out two blonde's very close to one another. Dropping her head she jumped into the back of the warm cab before it sped away into the New York night.

The ride was quiet, Santana stared blankly out of the window. She had been right about today, she knew it would be a long hard day and in that respect it had not disappointed. Santana had worked, quite possibly harder than she had in her entire life. She had been responsible for kitchens before, but nothing on this scale, this was New York, in the theatre district, it offered a constant stream of traffic through the front doors. It had also bared an emotional strain on her. The misunderstanding with Kurt had inadvertently led to her to her coming out to her colleagues. Sure, she wasn't ashamed, sure she wasn't in the closet, but she had felt it was forced out of necessity and not a natural thing. She had always been guarded about her personal life and now she felt somewhat exposed and human, leaving her open to a world of hurt. And what was worse, she was all alone. Her reactions to Quinn had the Latina mentally slapping herself, many a time she had told herself never to become involved with work colleagues, to not develop feelings for them yet she was disappointed when she had discovered the blonde manager obviously had a thing with Sam. How could she have not seen it before? Because she was far too busy keeping herself tucked away in her own private little bubble, where the weather was fine and everything was just how Santana wanted it to be. She turned to the blonde beside her. The mysterious blonde who had bought her a beer on a whim, a polite gesture having looked so haggard and worn and now here she was sharing a cab with her when the dancer could so easily have left her to her own devices. She was shaken from her reverie as the cab rolled to a halt. Her eyes met smiling, yet tired blue orbs.

"You do look tired." the words slipped from the brunette's lips before she could stop herself. The blonde shrugged, her smile grew impossibly wider. "Will I see you again?" again, as if Santana had no control over her own mouth she cringed at the desperation in her words. "I mean," she began, "you're like the first person who has shown any generosity since I got here."

"I'm guessing," Brittany began slowly, "I'm the first person you've interacted with outside of that restaurant since you got here." Santana nodded shyly in defeat.

"Busted." The Latina replied, "It's totally your fault."

"Blame my parents and the equally long and hard day I've had compared to yours." the blonde spoke quietly.

"How so?"

"If my mother had not insisted I find a nice young man to settle down with, I would have had a pleasant evening with them, instead, I got to end it with you and you looked like you needed a beer."

"I did need a beer." Santana sighed, throwing her head back on the seat. Vaguely taking in the blonde's words about her mother. She shifted her eyes sideways, back to looking at the blonde.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I know where you work and I'm a big fan of it." Brittany smiled, "Your work I mean." for clarification.

"Ok then." Santana laughed.

"Ok then." Brittany repeated. "I'll see you around Chef Lopez." the blonde said opening the door.

"Bye Brittany." Santana replied and watched as the dancer vacated the cab, the door closed with a harsh slam, the brunette gazed as Brittany waved through the window before heading to the apartment block. The cab pulled away once again.

For two people today was the day that was make and break, it would change their lives forever.


	3. Hustle and Bustle

**A/N: Ok, quick list of thank yous for reviews, I always read them and appreciate them and they help me get all creative :) so here goes:**

**WhiteOleander90, MLE, ShinobiFighter, ltrasco, Smurf12345, Fragar1991, Sektasica, bitshortened, elfspirit7, DoroBartowski, dondi, AnonFan, MIA1603, anonythemouse, killer cereal, Shine90, Verena R, Annaizabanana41**

**Special thanks and belated birthday wishes to LeftiesAreHOT you work too hard, this is for you.  
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**Thanks guys :)**

* * *

><p>Lost in her own thoughts, she was oblivious to the hustle and bustle surrounding her. So seldom had she a moment to herself, although when she did, her mind wondered. She had worked incredibly hard to get to where she was today. The past few weeks could not have been written, it had been everything she expected and more. Not one to shy away from hard work, she relished the opportunity that was offered her and she utilised to her full ability. However, she found herself in a contemplative mood, during a rare respite.<p>

**Hustle.**

The steady stream of customers through the door had not relented since the opening night. Santana had ultimately succeeded in presenting a bright new vibrant menu that appealed to the patrons and visitors of New York City. The whole team had been stretched to the point of Quinn deciding to take on new staff. It may have been premature in premise, however, the blonde restaurant manager was appointed for this very reason. She was astute business woman with a flare for observing trends in hospitality service. She was very good at her job and in partnership with a young talented head chef, it was a match made in profit heaven.

The sound of feet clattering against the hardwood floor, clinking of glasses, cutlery tapping against porcelain echoed with a muffled silence through her mind as images and words swam across her thoughts. Occasionally someone would hurry by, bumping her hip, knocking her back. Usually the fiery Latina would retaliate with an insult, yet she remained silent, her elbows propped up at the end of the bar, her head feeling heavy in her hands as she blindly watched the world go by.

"Penny for your thoughts." A voice danced over her ear. The brunette jumped slightly at the sudden interruption.

"Huh?" was all she could manage.

"Arh." Came the response of realisation. "Thinking of a certain blonde?"

"What?" she replied coyly, a slight blush forming on her cheeks. "No." she choked out unconvincingly.

"Aha, I knew it." Kurt smiled in triumph, he leaned casually against the bar beside the chef. "So, have you seen Brittany since . . ." he asked, voice trailing off.

"Brittany?" she asked suddenly, her eyes widening in shock at her own faux pas. Kurt's face momentarily mimicked that of the brunette.

"If it wasn't Brittany you were thinking about, who wa . . ." His eyes widened further, his mouth hung open in shock. "Quinn?" he winced as he said it.

"What? No!" Santana was quick to defend. "No." she shook her head for emphasis.

"Ohmygod." he said quickly. "You like Quinn?"

"No!" Santana repeated quickly.

"You do!" he accused excitedly.

"I don't." She huffed. "I thought I did, at first, but I don't." Santana concluded.

"You don't sound so sure." Kurt replied.

"Look," began the brunette, "I have one rule, no relationships at work. Besides, she's with Sam, not to mention straight."

"Hmm, I've always wondered about that last part." Kurt pondered out loud. Santana narrowed her eyes, waiting for an explanation that never arrived. "Soooo," the Matre D drawled out, "what are you going to do?"

"Nothing." Santana shrugged. "It's nothing."

"Brittany?" Kurt asked with trepidation.

"What about her Kurt?" the chef was becoming impatient. "She bought me a drink, we shared a cab, I asked her if I would see her again, she told me she knew where I worked indicating that yes she would come visit and she hasn't been in since."

"She may be busy." Kurt offered with a small nervous smile.

"I know when I'm being blown off Kurt, besides, she's straight too."

"Rachel!" Kurt yelled across Santana, the brunette winced at the shrill voice that hit her side on. The waitress bounced over to where they were stood with enthusiasm, Santana shot Kurt a look of disdain. "Rachel," Kurt began, "tell me what life as a Broadway star is like." The girl's face lit up first with confusion, quickly to be overtaken with excitement.

"Well Kurt it is well documented that the life of a Broadway star is exceptionally busy, yet highly fulfilling." she paused, "I would imagine. The hours are not normal social hours as you can probably guess, much like ours." she stated.

"Do you know anything about Brittany Pierce?" Kurt asked.

"Sure, she's the new darling of Broadway, she has been interviewed in several industry magazines, on local radio and in newspapers, the internet is alive with information about her. It's like she's become famous overnight. To say I'm a little envious is an understatement, but she deserves it, I heard when she's not performing, she's either in the dance studio or having vocal coaching to strengthen her singing voice."

"See." Kurt said triumphantly. "She works as tirelessly as you do." he nodded toward the chef.

"She has of course found time to grace us with her presence." Rachel said proudly.

"Wait, what?" Santana asked, startled. "When?"

"I didn't know you were such a fan, I would have told you she was here." The waitress pondered aloud.

"I'm surprised you didn't organise a parade." Kurt muttered to which the chef smirked before returning her attention to the shorter girl.

"Seriously, when?" the chef asked with eagerness.

"Once last week and once the week before." Rachel recalled, "Of course she could have come here more frequently, but well, I don't work every day."

"So maybe she wasn't blowing you off." Kurt smiled.

"She really loves your menu Santana, she said she would frequent more often should she have the time. She seemed to hit it off with Artie quite well too." Rachel added thoughtfully earning a scowl from the chef.

"Ok, thank you Rachel." Kurt said abruptly, placing his hands on her shoulders and guiding her toward the tables. "Work to do." she dutifully followed her orders having relished the opportunity to discuss Broadway gossip on an impromptu break. "So you see." began Kurt, returning his attention to his new friend, "She has been back." he concluded with a wink.

"Then why didn't she ask to see me?" Santana asked sadly. Kurt shrugged, taking in the melancholy on the brunette's face.

"I don't know." he answered quietly. "But hey," he said, placing his forefinger beneath the chef's chin and lifting it, forcing her to pay attention to him, "it's Valentine's Day, one of our busiest days of the year. You need to go back in there," he said, his arm outstretched and he pointed towards the kitchen, "and make all of these lovely couples happier than they already are."

"Sucks." Santana muttered under her breath. She stood tall, stretching out the kinks in her back.

"You and me." the Matre D stated, "After work drinks, we'll be each other's Valentine's date." he smiled. The brunette smirked before bringing both hands up and clamping them either side of Kurt's head.

"Watch the hair." he squealed. His eyes widened as Santana drew closer, he clamped them shut, moments before her lips made contact with his forehead.

"Thank you Kurt." she said as she pulled back. "You've probably been the nicest person to me since I got to New York."

"Besides Brittany." he stated. Santana rolled her eyes, unwilling to get into an argument over the blonde Broadway star.

"Listen," Santana began, "I'm a bitch ok, and for whatever reason we seem to have propelled toward one another."

"I'm a bitch too." Kurt stated. "But I have more style." he concluded with a cheeky wink and made a beeline for a fresh couple stepping over the threshold, leaving a pondering chef in his wake.

**Bustle.**

Sitting silently in the plush pull down seats, Brittany contemplated the last several weeks. They had rushed by in a whirlwind, the show had taken Broadway by storm, it was the new 'must see', something the blonde had trouble comprehending. Every night the girl would be immersed in a little world of her own, dancing freely, singing like there was no tomorrow, Brittany was in her element. She was living the dream and for every intent and purpose, she kept herself as busy as she could. It was moments like these, sat with her own thoughts for company that the smallest elements of doubt would creep into her mind. To the outside world, to her friends and family, Brittany was a 'happy go lucky' type of person, full of positivity and optimism and for the most part she was, however, very occasionally she would question herself and it was usually when she felt a small pang of loneliness.

Brittany felt like she was thousands of miles from home, should she actually consult a map the reality would seem so much worse. However, having lived in Europe for several years, New York should seem less harsh. Here she was in a new city, with new people, the blonde was easily adaptable, made friends easily, but somehow, here in New York it seemed different. It had felt different since one night in particular. Opening night had been one to remember for a number of reasons. The performance had been overwhelming, Brittany felt a huge sense of pride and achievement when she left the stage and made her way to her dressing room where her parents met her following the show. Mr and Mrs Pierce had been another attribute for her current state. Brittany loved her parents dearly, they had provided her with everything she could have ever asked for, yet there was a niggling voice in the back of her mind, belonging to her mother. The way Valerie had expected Brittany to settle down and marry a guy just did not sit well with the blonde. On numerous occasions she had explained to her parents that she would follow heart and she herself had no expectations of who she would fall in love with. Valerie's comment that night had felt like another blow, that however hard she tried to live with Brittany's persuasion, she ultimately would never accept it, and it made the blonde sad. They had moved passed the conversation quickly and carried on as normal.

The restaurant had shown Brittany just how important Broadway was in the big city. She had immediately become a star, people recognised her, she was receiving special treatment and she had found a new favourite place to eat and hangout. Following her visit to Empire State of Mind, the dancer vowed to visit often, however, as fate would have it, Brittany had only been able to visit twice since. She found herself pondering this, thinking about the fantastic atmosphere, the amazing food and the friendly staff. One staff member in particular stood out in the forefront of her mind. One staff member in particular had graced her dreams and constantly occupied her thoughts. The moment Brittany stepped out of that cab and onto the sidewalk that night, she could not stop thinking about Santana Lopez. Upon her return visits, Brittany had not chanced a meeting with the brunette, wondering if poor timing had caused her to visit on the chef's days off. She longed to eat at Empire State of Mind more often, however with her show being new and popular, she found herself constantly in a tug of war within the media realm, practising with her vocal coach and dancing leaving her little time for anything else. Whenever she thought of the brunette and pleading look in her eyes in the back of the cab as she asked that question, 'will I see you again?' she felt her heart constrict in a way she had never experienced before and felt eternally guilty for not staying true to her word.

"Hey, you shouldn't do that you know." A familiar deep voice said from beside her. She glanced left with a questioning look on her face. "Thinking. I heard it can damage your brain cells or something."

"Well you wouldn't know would you Puckerman? Because you have to have some in the first place." she smirked, earning a feigned look of anger.

"Ouch." he replied before breaking out into a smile. "Hey, you want to get some food after the show?" he asked hopefully. The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed, her head dropped to the side and she pursed her lips.

"I've told you before Puck, I'm not interested." the tall, dark haired guy beside her smirked causing Brittany to smile. It was one thing she liked about Noah Puckerman, his notorious smirk.

"I know, I got the message when you got me in the headlock and threatened to castrate me." he laughed. Having tried several times to date the blonde she had always knocked him back, that last time had earned the dancer a whole new level of respect. "As a friend. You look like you could do with one." Brittany pondered the invitation for several seconds, letting the awkward silence linger a little longer.

"Ok." she agreed. "But no touching and no coming on to me."

"I wouldn't dare." Noah stated. "Whoever's got you tied up in knots must be pretty special." he observed as he stood to leave.

"I'm not sure yet." Brittany pondered thoughtfully. Puck frowned at the blonde's choice of words.

"If I know one thing for sure," he began, "you certainly are."

"What?" the blonde asked with a frown.

"Special."

"You need to stop hitting on me." Brittany warned. She playfully swatted at her colleague. Puck smirked once again, ran a hand through his short hair and shrugged.

"I can't help it."

"I get it, you've made your moves on every girl in this city and I'm new meat." she accused, watching the rehearsal take place on the stage before her.

"Busted." Puck replied. "But seriously, you look like you could do with a friend and I know how lonely it can be on Valentine's Day, so I'm just offering my company, no strings attached." he stated with an earnest sincerity. "I promise." he added, his hand over his heart. Brittany's eyes glanced sideways, and narrowed her gaze.

"It's Valentine's Day?"

"Sure it is." Puck began in disbelief, "Have you like been walking around the city with your eyes closed? There's hearts and pink and red everywhere, it's like cupid threw up or something." he said with venom.

"Not a Valentine's Day fan?" Brittany asked.

"Dude, the Puckster does not need V Day to woo a hot piece of ass." Brittany rolled her eyes before making a gagging motion with her fingers.

"You're disgusting."

"Yet here you are still talking to me." he said jumping up from his seat, "And I'm your date for Valentine's." he laughed and bolted before the blonde could retaliate.

xxx

It was late, service had ceased, the last order having passed through the kitchen fifteen minutes ago. Having spent the majority of the day in the kitchen, Santana was satisfied her kitchen staff could handle cleaning the kitchen for the following day. She pushed through the doors of the locker room and sauntered tiredly onto the restaurant floor. Subconsciously, today the brunette had made an effort with her attire, jeans, knee high boots, shirt and blazer her ensemble of choice. Having changed out of her whites, Kurt offered her an appreciative eye and approving nod as she approached him at the bar. "I approve." he said with a nod. "Much better than the sweats you like to hide that beautiful figure with." Santana frowned before offering a shrug.

"They're comfortable." she explained.

"And today's choice of clothing?" the Matre D enquired. The chef shrugged again.

"Felt like a change." she offered as she hoisted herself up onto a stool beside her colleague.

"Really." it was a statement more than a question. Sam placed a bottle of Santana's favourite beer before her, her fingers leaving an instant impression in the cool condensation of the brown glass bottle. She sighed appreciatively taking her first couple of sips. Kurt motioned with his head beyond Santana's shoulder. She spun around, almost choking on the ale as she spotted what Kurt so pensively had his eyes trained on.

"Shit." Santana said, holding her free hand up beneath her chin, catching any stray drips.

"Classy." Kurt said nonchalantly as he casually handed her a napkin. Choice timing caused the object of their stares to turn, looking in the direction of the bar causing Santana to spin back to face the other direction.

"Oh look, it's my oh so attractive friend Santana Lopez." Quinn mocked as she waltzed passed them and to the bar. "What has you in a tiz?" the blonde manager followed Kurt's line of sight. "Oh." came a short gasp of realisation. "I love your work Lopez." she smirked, earning a look of pure evil from the brunette.

xx

Brittany sat nervously in her seat, she had felt several pairs of eyes on her throughout her meal. Not only from the patrons, but from the staff also. It irked her somewhat that she was unable to sit through a meal without feeling paranoid or uncomfortable. Only when her eyes met a certain pair of brown ones, did she relax somewhat, offering a small smile at whatever commotion was abound at the bar. Having realised the Latina had inadvertently 'missed her mouth' with the beer in her hand, she smiled adoringly before turning back to Puck who was demanding her attention.

"Dude everyone thinks we're on a date. This is so awesome." Puck grinned, stuffing the remains of a bread roll in his mouth. Brittany winced with disgust as she watched the dough tumble in his mouth.

"_Dude?_" she mimicked, "Close your mouth. And you know this isn't a date. It's _not_ a date." she repeated adamantly, at which point their waiter swooped in to clear the empty plates.

"Was everything to your satisfaction ma'am?" Artie asked with a small smile.

"Company excluded." she shot a look at Puck who feigned hurt and clutched dramatically at his chest. Brittany rolled her eyes in response. "Yes, thank you very much Artie."

"Can I get you any coffee or deserts?" As Puckerman opened his mouth to speak, the dancer cut in.

"No, thank you, just the cheque."

"Certainly ma'am." Artie obliged and returned the plates to the kitchen.

"It's Valentine's Day, I should be allowed desert." Puck sulked into his beer. Brittany glanced over to the bar once again, she had other ideas, ones she was not planning on sharing with her dinner date. However Puck noticed and glanced over his shoulder.

"Ok, what's the deal?" he asked. "I knew there was a reason you keep raving about this place, I mean the food is good, great even, but you keep looking over there." his eyes narrowed, determined to get his friend to speak. He could see the emotions crossing the dancers face, settling on apprehension and uncertainty. He placed his hand over hers in a warm, friendly gesture. "You can tell me."

"I . . ." she began, her eyes lifted and glanced at Santana who was slouched on her stool. Brittany's heart broke a little at the deflated body language of the chef. She knew the brunette was lonely, having discovered the blonde was the only person who did not work at the restaurant that Santana had conversed with. Although that may well have changed over the past several weeks, but Brittany could not help think that she was the only one deemed special enough to garner the Latina's attention.

"Your special someone is over there." Puck deduced as he watched Brittany intently. The blonde sighed in defeat. He may be a guy, and he may be Noah Puckerman, the infamous lethario, but the guy was fairly astute.

"Yes." she admitted with a deep breath. Puck's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Is it the blonde dude behind the bar?"

"No." Brittany replied.

"Good, because he's prettier than you and keeps making googly eyes at the other blonde, are they like lesbians or something?" Puck asked, earning a soft giggle from the other blonde beside him. "Arh there it is." he beamed in triumph.

"Dude, it's not our waiter is it? Because he's a bit of a douche."

"No, not the waiter."

"The Maitre D? Because I'm pretty sure he bats for the other team."

"Wrong again Puckerman." Puck frowned looking around.

"Well that only leaves . . . ." he began, his eyes landing on the attractive Latina propping up the bar. "Damn."

"Yep." Brittany replied, avoiding eye contact with her colleague.

"She's smoking hot Britt." Puck approved.

"But how do you know if . . ." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders questioningly.

"I don't. And I don't really have any friends and we just clicked, you know?" she replied wistfully.

"What if she's not?"

"I'm not befriending her for the sole purpose of seducing her." Brittany answered. "Friendship first, it seems like it's what we both need."

"So you've like spoken to her and stuff?"

"Yeah." Brittany replied. "Opening night, I bought her drink and we talked. It was nice."

"Chicks are so weird." Puck muttered. "But if that's what you want, go for it."

"Don't hit on her." Brittany blasted abruptly. Puck put his hands up in defence.

"Off limits, I get it." he stated, "A guy can dream though right?" he asked with a playful smirk.

xx

"I think she's on a date." Sam stated from his position behind the bar, whilst polishing wine glasses.

"Yes thank you for your input oh wise one." Santana spat. Kurt laid a hand on Santana's thigh and shot her a warning 'play nice' glance. Quinn eyed the exchange with interest before referring to the situation at hand.

"Are you jealous?" the brunette froze in place. On the one hand she had reacted in spite to Sam who was dating Quinn, on the other she was somewhat disappointed to see Brittany seemingly on a date, in her restaurant, on Valentine's Day. "I think you like her." Quinn teased, she was rewarded with a scowl.

"Cut it out Quinn." interrupted Kurt.

"Since when did you back down from a good tease?"

"Since I'm sensitive to people's feelings."

"Oh per-lease." Quinn snarled. She spared a glance at a glum looking Santana, her heart tugged a little at the loneliness she saw there, "Hey, if it's any consolation, she keeps looking over." the blonde offered an olive branch.

"Guys, I like met her once, what is the big deal here?" Santana snapped. "I'm not interested in her 'like that'." she elaborated. Her colleagues began looking at one another, at everyone other than Santana in the uncomfortable silence. "Let's get a few things straight here." Quinn and Kurt suppressed a giggle. "Number one, my personal life, or lack of, is not up for discussion. Number two, just because I am gay does not mean I am interested in her. Number three," Santana continued with a stern frown, "she seems nice, we got a long well, is it completely beyond the realms of possibility for me to make friends? Really?" she hissed. Eyes widened, mouths flapped unceremoniously like ocean creatures.

"No." Kurt said, placing a reassuring hand on the brunette's shoulder. "You're very much entitled to and capable of making friends as much as anyone."

"Thank you Kurt." Santana over pronounced for dramatic effect.

"She's not dating him." Artie said as he cut in and swiped a credit card through the till. All pairs of eyes landed on the waiter, lips remained closed as they waited for him to elaborate. However, the explanation never came and Artie walked back over to Brittany and her 'date'.

...

"This drink was the worst idea ever Hummel." Santana groaned as she let her head drop into the crook of her elbow which lay upon the bar. Quinn and Sam had occupied themselves with preparing the bar for closing and were now safely out of earshot.

"I don't think it was." Kurt said, sliding off his stool.

"Really Kurt? I've had nothing but grief since I left the damn kitchen, I worked my ass off on Valentine's Day and have no date, Quinn's giving me shit about Brittany and . . ."

"What about Brittany?" Santana's muffled voice was cut off by a clear and concise one, new to the conversation. The brunette frowned and gingerly lifted her head from the bar, turning to look at the bearer of the sweet voice.

"Oh hey." the chef offered with an embarrassed blush. "Err, I'm sorry about that, I thought I was talking to Kurt." she replied, looking around for her friend.

"He went that way." Brittany pointed toward the kitchen.

"Of course he did." Santana muttered. The dancer watched Santana intently, who appeared deflated somewhat.

"I did come back." the blonde stated quickly, a pang of guilt had settled in her chest. The chef looked at her questioningly. "After I said I would." the brunette smiled. "I didn't see you."

"It's ok." Santana replied, she straightened herself, feeling a little more confident and took a swig from her bottle.

"I didn't want you to think that I didn't, I stay true to my word." Santana continued to smile at the honesty radiating from the blue eyes before her.

"I appreciate that." Santana replied, "Can I get you a drink?"

"I'd like that." Brittany said, taking her cue to perch on the stool beside the Latina. The blonde placed her order and was promptly served by the blonde barman, a drink and a smile, perfect customer service.

"Where's your date?" Santana asked, less than enthused, it was said without interest, yet without malice also. Santana had no right to be jealous and she knew it. She had only met the girl once and she would admit that Brittany had left a lasting impression on the Latina as she did with most people she came across, the blonde was a force of nature. Brittany laughed sweetly and swatted at Santana's arm. Brown eyes followed the movements of the dancer's hand before meeting her mesmerising eyes once again. She could not help but smile, everything about the blonde exuded sunshine, rainbows and waves of positivity.

"Puck is not my date, he's in the show and felt sorry for me. I didn't even know it was Valentine's day." Santana laughed softly, at her own invalid assumption above the fact the blonde had almost bypassed one of the biggest days on the Hallmark calendar.

"I guess when you're performing as much as you do all the days kind of run into one another." the chef mused.

"Yes, totally." Agreed the dancer.

"It can be like that here, but occasions like today stick out."

"I imagine it's days like today that guarantee you business." Brittany pondered before bringing her glass to her lips and taking a sip. She let the warm liquid lubricate her throat, the sensation causing a feeling of satisfaction. The blonde tilted her head back slightly and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. Santana took the opportunity to really look at the other woman. It was like she was seeing her for the first time. She knew the blonde was attractive, but with a raised eyebrow and an appreciative smirk, Santana noticed the dancer's true beauty. "Are you ok?" Brittany asked, her eyes suddenly trained questioningly on the Latina.

"Huh?" Santana shook her head, clearing her thoughts, yet she couldn't help the blush creeping up her neck and across her cheeks. "Yeah, sorry, just tired I guess."

"So where's your date this evening?" the blonde asked, somewhat interested in the brunette's answer, yet being the Broadway star she was, was able to hide the eagerness that plagued her.

"I don't have one." she replied simply. "Well," she began, "Kurt was kind of it, but we're not each other's type." she smiled. Brittany thought for a moment, heading the brunette's words, not quite sure if she understood them the way she was meant to. Deciding not to push it so early in the friendship, the blonde swiftly changed topic.

"So I feel bad for not seeing you before now." Brittany said.

"Hey no!" Santana began, however, the blonde continued.

"I was thinking as you're new in town I could show you around a bit." the blonde stated with apprehension. She waited patiently, watching the thoughts cross the chef's eyes.

"You know your way around this place?" Santana asked.

"Sure." Brittany shrugged nonchalantly.

"Sure, that sounds great, I've been meaning to explore the City." the brunette replied with excitement. "You're not too busy are you?" she asked as an afterthought. Brittany smiled at the concern in the warm brown eyes before her.

"I have days off Santana." Brittany replied, "Besides, I'd make time for you." she said quietly with a sweet smile earning a light blush from the chef.

"Why?" Santana asked curiously. Brittany tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment, formulating the right words before opening her mouth to speak.

"You just see me as a regular person." the blonde stated. Santana frowned, processing the words. "In the short time we've spent together, you've treated me like Brittany Pierce from Lima, Ohio, not Brittany Pierce, West End and Broadway star. You know, I do love my job and I appreciate the fans, but I do it because I love to perform, I'm not really used to being the centre of attention and being recognised, it creeps me out." she sighed. "And you kinda get that without even knowing it."

"You are Brittany from Ohio to me. You don't scream and shout about your talent, it's refreshing around here." Santana said with a smile. "I mean, your job doesn't define you." the blonde laughed at the chef's choice of words. Santana smiled widely, the happiness infectious. "What?" she asked with a slight sense of self consciousness.

"Doesn't it?" Brittany asked. "Does your job define you?"

"There's more to me than just chef whites." she smiled as she placed the head of the beer bottle to her lips.

"I can see that." the blonde swept her eyes over Santana's clothing. The Latina narrowed her eyes. "I like you." Brittany stated. "I think we could be great friends."

"You might change your mind." Santana replied nervously.

"Hmm," pondered the blonde, "I guess we'll just have to hang out and see." she mused.

"Thank you Brittany." the Latina stated with an air of seriousness.

"You're welcome?" Brittany asked confused. Santana smiled at the frown lines forming on the dancer's pale features.

"It's not easy for me to make friends." the brunette stated sadly. Brittany placed a reassuring hand on Santana's shoulder.

"Something tells me you don't trust very easily." Santana laughed nervously at her companion's accurate assessment. "And that it's a story for another time." the brunette nodded her agreement, keen to avoid such a heavy topic on what would be only their second meeting. Yet the brunette felt comfortable around Brittany, she felt like she could trust her and to some extent it scared her. "I'm done." the blonde said. She placed her glass heavily onto the bar. "Want to share a cab?" she asked. Santana smiled, it may scare her, but it also excited her that someone like Brittany actually wanted to spend time with her. She nodded in agreement before downing the rest of her beer. "Happy Valentine's Day." the blonde added with a wink.

"Didn't turn out so bad after all."

xx

Whilst the hustle and bustle of New York lived on through the night, two women lay in their big lonely beds where both fell peacefully asleep happier than when they had woken up. They found themselves on a path excited to explore. Neither had expected to find one another, to become friends so quickly and easily as New York had initially been all about career. Whilst work had proven a great success for both of them so far, their social standings were beginning to look up also. For one woman, it was naturally difficult to connect with people on a personal level and make friends, for the other, her charm and easy going nature had people falling at her feet, however, due to her success it was time for her to be choosy. She had fallen into the trap and been hurt before by fame and fortune seekers. People she could generally rely on, were those already in the business, so when she found someone so detached from the stage and seemed genuinely interested in her as a person, she vowed to pursue a friendship with this woman, although it appeared she did not have to pursue as much as she thought as the other woman too had formed an instant attachment to her. With smiles on their slumber filled faces, both slept soundly with dreams of what tomorrow may bring.


	4. Will and Hope

**A/N: Important! I can't thank you enough for your patience. I know the updates are taking a little longer than I had hoped and I appreciate you sticking with it, reading, reviewing and adding, it means so much. This is a labour of love and I really enjoy sharing it with you.**

**Without further ado, here's some quality Britt-Britt Santana time, enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>She blinked, willing the sleep to disappear as the dull morning sun gently seeped through the gap in the curtains and across the bed. She shielded her eyes with her arm, offering a brief respite from the unfamiliar and sudden stream of light. Glancing at the clock beside the bed, she sighed with a proud satisfaction, the time later than a normal waking day. The smile slowly crept across her face, eventually reaching her eyes. Lifting her arms above her head she stretched with an earnest effort, decreasing the kinks that had formed in the night. Sighing once again, she relaxed her muscles and took a deep breath. Today was the day. This had been the second day so far this year, that phrase had echoed through her mind upon waking, only this time it was different. This time it promised so much more, she thought with strong will and a sense of hope.<p>

**Will.**

She was not notorious for being a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. Santana Lopez was far from it. Although if you considered arriving home in the early hours a morning person, then she would shrug and agree, but a Night Owl would be a more accurate description. However, she kept regular hours, she had to, otherwise the girl would have long gone insane with the long hours she worked. Santana considered her kitchen like a well oiled machine, an army of workers that were always aware of each other's duties. She had them trained to the highest standards. The girl had worked in some of the most prestigious kitchens in Europe as a young apprentice and spent hours studying her masters, their technical skills as well as their abilities to manage and maintain a team within the kitchen. The Latina was confident in her own skills as a teacher and in her staff's capabilities to leave them at their own devices. She had an exceptional sous chef who was in her eyes, an ideal deputy. Upon first impressions, Santana believed Finn Hudson to be an oversized, bumbling mess. She was first to concede her opinion had in fact been inaccurate and could not praise the guy enough for his knife skills and confidence in and around the kitchen. He had been the longest serving chef at Empire State of Mind, having started out as a kitchen hand after dropping out of school. He was not the cleverest, but he was one of the most talented sous chef's Santana had ever had working for her.

She found herself smiling, musing that she could leave the restaurant without worry or hesitation. She trusted her team. Team. That was a word that had been drummed into her from her early working life. Another word associated with Santana Lopez was 'will'. She had a lot of it. So determined was the chef, she worked incredibly hard to succeed. She oozed willpower and was very much a girl of decisive action. Laying contently in her bed, the covers cosy up to her neck, keeping her warm in the winter-come-spring coolness she pondered the life she had led thus far, satisfied with the distance she had travelled professionally. Today was different. It was a rare day off. She had fleeting mornings or afternoons to herself, but today she would not step foot in the restaurant at all, it was her day, a personal day. Her eyes wondered around her room suspiciously, so rare was it for her to be lying there without having to jump out of bed and into the shower.

Her mind drifted to the reason she was not going in to work today and smiled lazily, burying her head back into her pillow shyly. She was alone, yet she was acting like a bashful girl, merely at the thought of one person. Santana had been looking forward to this day since it had been arranged haphazardly with Brittany. Their schedules clashing until they were able to negotiate a whole day together. The blonde had dined in the restaurant several times since their Valentine's day encounter. Santana managed to snatch moments with her favourite customer when there was a lull in service and was even able to achieve an evening of drinks with the blonde on one occasion. Having spent more time with Brittany, the more she wanted to learn about the charming, carefree dancer. It had been polite conversation, lightly scratching the surface, keeping things friendly and neutral. They both spoke fondly of their careers, how they came to be where they are, not having an opportunity to delve much deeper in the short time they had. Conversation flowed easily, never short of something to say. It was something Santana was not accustomed to. It usually took her time to warm to people, colleagues she managed with just fine as she was thrust into an environment where she had to get along with people. However, her own social skills were somewhat lacking. She always appeared standoffish and a little unapproachable. However, Brittany had barrelled through any proverbial walls and struck Santana by surprise.

Brittany was beautiful. Santana could not deny that. Every time the brunette saw her, her intense brown eyes softened, simultaneously blurring the razor sharp edges of her heart. Brittany's laidback approach to life and her optimistic personality added to the attraction Santana found growing for the blonde. Her desire to spend more time with the dancer was becoming overwhelming, yet she remained unsure if it was the want for friendship or something more. Besides, Brittany was straight, the blonde mentioned herself her mother was trying to marry her off. Santana was determined that she should focus on friendship, that she had in fact not come here looking for romance and Brittany ticked all the boxes for being a loyal and trustworthy friend. Something she had silently been yearning for all her life. Kurt had been the closest she had to that. Quinn, she thought held potential, but the blonde was as feisty and guarded as herself and had the potential to be a match made in hell. Kurt had offered sound advice and a good ear when the brunette required it, although, that was a rare occasion in itself. With Brittany it was different. They just clicked and it was refreshing and exciting. Her strong will would see her through and make sure this budding friendship would be one to last, because she felt it was more than worth it.

Turning over, glancing at the time on the clock beside her bed, Santana decided she had procrastinated long enough. She rolled out from under the covers, grateful for the approaching spring and the slowly warming climate and lazily sloped off toward her bathroom, ready to enjoy her second favourite part of the day. A relaxing warm shower. The first? Bed time of course. She fleetingly wondered if that would ever change.

**Hope.**

What a glorious day. Waking up eagerly with a genuine smile on her face, Brittany sprung into action almost immediately. Another quick stretch and yawn later, the blonde jumped up on to her feet and bounced enthusiastically up and down on the matress, pumping her fists into the air with joy. Jumping from the bed she landed gracefully on the hardwood floor and skipped whilst humming into the bathroom. Brittany Pierce was a notoriously happy person. Very seldom would she find herself in a state of melancholy and the anticipation today brought her, forced an extra spring in the blonde's step. She was elated to have a day off where there would be no vocal coaching, no dance rehearsals, no work outs, no media promotion and lastly, no show. She sighed with content as she rested her hands on the porcelain sink, her eyes lifting and settling on her mirrored image. Brittany Pierce from Lima Ohio. This life was a far cry from the one she had back home, it was everything she dreamed of and so far it had not disappointed. What had brought her to New York was her career. She had no other expectations. Brittany was the type of person who took life in her stride. Professionally, she was driven and worked hard to get to where she was, it was her love of dance and performance that had excelled her. However, personally, Brittany glided through life, easily making friends, finding the good in everyone and everything and generally having a positive outlook on the world.

She smiled at her reflection. Already she had befriended the entire cast and crew of her show, she knew everyone by name and always greeted individuals with a smile and a small wave. She had a knack for putting people at ease and feel included. It was who she was, who she was brought up to be. Brittany had been persistently busy, her schedule had been relentless and for almost a month she had been battling for a free day that would coincide with a certain Chef's, having been ecstatic when the brunette agreed to have Brittany show her around the City she was yet to explore. Puck had been insufferable since learning of her 'date' with Santana. She was not one for violence, yet on several occasions, the dancer had threatened her friend should he continue to speak of Santana and their fledgling 'relationship' in the manner that he did so. Brittany smiled. At heart Puck was a decent guy, despite his attempts to woo his co-star, they had forged a friendship like no other she had previously experienced and had a belief that it would be one to last. Brittany had bamboozled the womanizer and earned a deep respect, resulting in an unlikely kinship. Following her slight wobble around Valentine's Day, Puck had been a constant support, especially when it came to her feelings for Santana and the thought of her mother's disapproval. Although, if the blonde were to be completely honest with herself, she was unsure how she felt for the brunette and vice versa. She just knew she wanted to spend more time with her and get to know her. If that led to other things, it would be a bonus. For all Brittany knew, the Chef was straight. She thought back to the conversation they shared on Valentine's Day at the bar. Santana had stated herself and Kurt were not each other's type which had led the blonde to think and over think, before convincing herself it was nothing.

Throughout the brief moments they had shared since, Santana gave nothing away. Conversation remained light, speaking mostly of work, the trials and tribulations of their respective journeys. Although different careers, they had found their stories familiar, may be even crossing paths at several points during their times in Europe. Brittany had squealed in excitement having realised this, Santana looking on adorably at the enthusiasm radiating from the dancer. The blonde could not help but wonder what would have happened should they met earlier. The Chef, ever the realist explained that despite coming close in the past, they had now met, it was fate and everything happens for a reason. Brittany smiled widely, remembering the conversation, elated that Santana thought of their meeting as being destined. She hummed merrily as she began to prepare herself for their meeting. Today promised so much. She hadn't felt like this since her opening night, since the beginning of her Broadway career. It had been a monumental day and somehow, one simple day with Santana had filled Brittany with a sense of hope that was almost overwhelming. Almost.

**xx**

Santana checked her bag one last time, ensuring she had everything she needed, satisfied for the fourth time she closed the door behind her. Still slightly paranoid, she looked down at her attire, jeans, grey sweater, leather biker jacket, scarf, comfortable flat shoes. She knew the type of city New York was, she was also aware that exploring the great city would involve a vast amount of walking, so comfort was key. The chef, always prepared in the kitchen, was never really one for organisation at home, part of her outfit choice had been made with the blonde at the forefront of her mind. It just coincided that she would actually be comfortable in her chosen attire. With a smug grin, she descended the stairs with a bounce she wasn't sure ever existed before. Panic struck her being as her phone chirped to indicate a new message. Her hand shaking nervously, she snaked it into her purse and pulled out the item, she half sighed with relief, whilst the other half of her continued with an underlying worry as she checked the name that flashed across the screen. With trepidation she opened the message, and released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding. She smiled wryly as she read the good luck message from Quinn, despite the chef's insistence the previous evening it was just two new friends hanging out today. It had brought a reaction of raised eyebrows and questioning glances to which she ignored, for her own sanity if anything else.

Stepping out onto the street from the subway, Santana made her way to the centre of Times Square. It had seemed like the ideal place to start according to her tour guide, even though she passed through this part of town at least twice a day to-ing and fro-ing from work. She knew it would also be the case for Brittany, however, she did not want to question the bubbly, excited blonde and agreed. The brunette slowed for a moment, fully taking in her surroundings, so many times she had traipsed through the infamous landmark, but was yet to appreciate the unique atmosphere it offered. With her gaze set on the tall buildings with neon signs, the gigantic billboards advertising Broadway Shows, television shows and movies, she stopped, open mouthed as her eyes landed on a familiar face. "Brittany." she whispered. As if on cue, she found herself engulfed in strong hold, arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders. Opening her mouth once again to retaliate, Santana realised it was hardly a stranger's style in New York and relaxed as she turned into the hug and locked eyes with a very chirpy blonde. "Hey." she greeted with a warm smile, wrapping her own arms around the other woman.

"Hey to you too." Brittany replied. "I see you've met my alter ego." The blonde laughed at Santana's confused expression and nodded to the poster fifty feet in the air the brunette had been gazing at.

"Oh." started Santana with a slight blush. "Yeah, it's . . . Wow." she offered struggling for words. Reluctantly she broke free of the blonde, Brittany clung on to Santana's arm, not completely wanting to lose contact. "Is it new?"

"It's a couple weeks old, but I forgive you for not noticing." Brittany shrugged.

"I guess I walk through here with my eyes closed." the brunette laughed. The dancer smiled, Santana's laugh was a sound she could easily get used to.

"Doesn't beat the real thing though right?" The blonde asked rhetorically. "Hey." she began, changing the subject. "I love your jacket, it's so . . . you." she offered.

"Erm." Santana thought momentarily at the words, "Thanks." she smiled coyly. "You look, great by the way." she added, it sounded like an afterthought and mentally she berated herself for it. She had not intended to offer a compliment to the blonde simply as a result of Brittany's praise. She had briefly appraised the dancer's low cut v-neck sweater as she had been privy to a view of Brittany's cleavage. It was the fear of being caught that led the brunette to regard the rest of the outfit, a pair of snug stonewash jeans not entirely dissimilar to her own, a charcoal grey fitted jacket and a matching flat cap. Silken, golden locks were loose, flowing over her shoulders, much like her own. A chance look down to the ground and Santana frowned at the other girl's choice of footwear. "Brittany." she stated, gaining her companion's attention.

"Yeah?" the blonde asked lightly, her head tilted to the side.

"Your boots." she said simply. The blonde was wearing pair of worn brown knee high leather boots with a heel, making the dancer a good few inches taller than Santana than usual. Brittany regarded Santana, before her arm tugged the brunette closer.

"You like them?" she asked, "Do you have some sort of shoe fetish . . ." the blonde trailed as she watched various thoughts pass through Santana's deep brown eyes.

"We're exploring the city right? I thought we were going to . . ." Santana stopped mid-sentence, Brittany visibly distracted by something over their shoulders. The brunette turned her attention to what had the dancer captivated, her eyes widened in response, "catch a tour bus. Right." she said as the big red open top bus pulled up beside them. "I thought you were going to be my guide?" she quizzed the girl beside her.

"Of course I sort of am." Brittany replied as she flashed pre-bought tickets to the guide. The two women clambered onto the bus, the blonde dragging Santana up the stairs and into a couple of vacant seats. "You're going to need this when we get off." Santana narrowed her eyes as the blonde passed her a map. "The bus." Brittany added for clarification. Santana smirked, the blonde was adorable.

"I know that." she offered, "But why do I need the map?" she asked suspiciously. Brittany shrugged, feigning innocence.

"Just in case."

"You don't know this city at all!" Santana gasped, pointing accusingly at the girl beside her.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Brittany offered weakly with a guilty grin. "You might get lost." she shrugged again. Santana laughed heartily she found the dancer so endearing. Being duped was not something Santana usually took kindly to. In fact, conspiracies and surprises usually riled her. Had anyone else been at the bottom of such an elaborate plan to spend time with her, she would have accused them of number one, stalker behaviour and number two, general weirdness. However she had gotten to know Brittany in small bite sized chunks and knew her well enough by now to know she was full of good intention and would never even think of deception. It endeared her to think Brittany wanted to spend more time with her and would think up a diversion such as this.

"You planned this." the chef smiled, unable to harbour any ill feeling towards the blonde.

"Ok, yeah. I've only been here a few times on vacation and I've lived here about as long as you have." she conceded. "But I didn't know how else I would get to spend a whole day with you." Brittany admitted.

"I'm flattered." Santana said. "I really am, but you could have just asked."

"When I asked, I didn't really know you. But I wanted to." Brittany admitted. She shifted her gaze downward, "And you seem a little scary sometimes." Brittany admitted. "And I've heard what some of the staff say about you at the restaurant." this last statement really piqued Santana's interest. She narrowed her eyes somewhat, waiting for Brittany to elaborate. "Of course I don't believe them." she said. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "Not now. You might be mean to them sometimes, but you're different with me." Santana knew the things the restaurant staff would say about her. She ran a kitchen to the highest standard and she made sure that was maintained, in whichever way possible. "I don't think Artie likes you." Brittany offered as an afterthought.

"The feeling's mutual." The brunette mumbled. "I guess I can't complain right?" Santana said, she stilled Brittany's hand with her own, forcing the piercing blue eyes to meet hers. She smiled reassuringly. "You know I don't make friends easily." she began. "But you've made it so much easier for me." Brittany opened her mouth to speak, having been lost for several moments in the honesty radiating from her friend. However a booming voice came over the speakers, wiping all thoughts out of Brittany's mind. She mentally cursed, having wanting to continue this conversation, the moment very much lost thanks to an over eager, tip seeking tour guide. One saving grace however, was the feeling of Santana's warm palm in her own and the light caresses made with her thumb over the back of Brittany's hand.

After street upon famous street of notorious buildings, listening to the ramblings of the tour guide, Santana found herself surprisingly relaxed and enjoying herself. For one, she was sitting extremely close to Brittany, their thighs and shoulders touching, sending the occasional shiver through her being. Every now and again the blonde would squeal with excitement, point out something obscure to the brunette or snap a photograph with her cell phone. As they passed through down town Manhattan and toward Battery Park, the blonde sat up abruptly. "We're getting off." Brittany said quickly, pushing Santana out of her seat.

"Wha-" the brunette struggled to get to her feet and landed unceremoniously on her butt in the middle of the isle.

"Well ladies and gentlemen, what can I say, I have women falling at my feet." The tour guide announced into his microphone to a giggling bus, whilst leering at Santana on the floor. "Hot women too." he sneered. Brittany was quickly at her companion's side.

"Hey, knock it off jerk." Santana yelled as she yanked on the blonde's arm, pulling herself up.

"San, I'm so sorry." Brittany offered quietly as she helped Santana off the ground.

"If you wanted a date you just had to ask." the tour guide laughed, trying too hard to be a comedian. The brunette, now steady on her feet thrust a finger into his face.

"Don't flatter yourself you washed up Broadway wannabe. If I wasn't already gay, you sure would have turned me." she spat. "Britt?" she called, grabbing a hold of the blonde's hand. "I wants to get my caffeine on." she pulled the startled blonde down the stairs of the bus and out onto the sidewalk.

"No tip?" Brittany asked. Santana turned and looked at the blank expression on the dancer's face. She felt it rise from the pit of her stomach, up through her chest and exploded through her mouth, the laughter was contagious and Brittany could not help but join in. The brunette was doubled over, she hugged an arm across her stomach. As the giggles subsided, she straightened, ran a finger along her eyelashes, ridding them of dampness and sighed. Blue eyes shone impossibly bright, gazing at her in wonderment.

"I'm sorry I pushed you onto the floor." Brittany offered. Santana shrugged, those eyes had her hypnotised, there was no way she could be mad at Brittany, she appeared to have a warm, calming effect over her. "Coffee?"

"Sure." Santana smiled, "Let's get it to go. I want to look at that some more." she said, turning and pointing to the Statue of Liberty in the distance.

A ferry trip and walk around Liberty Island later, Santana and Brittany disembarked onto Ellis Island. "Is this like Aristocats?" Brittany asked, her eyes travelling over the building before them. Santana frowned, 'Aristocats?' she thought. She turned her head to the blonde beside her.

"Like the Disney movie?" she asked.

"No like the prison on the island in San Francisco." the blonde explained. "I've seen that place, it's scarier than this." Santana smiled, she linked her arm through Brittany's and guided her up the steps and into the foyer.

"No." Santana said, "This wasn't a prison." she began. "It is where the European Immigrants had to come when they arrived in America."

"Get out." Brittany said excitedly. "Really?"

"Yeah." the brunette said.

"I bet my great great grandparents came through here." she sighed thoughtfully.

"Where were they from?"

"The Netherlands." the blonde replied. "I don't know much about them. My Dad's parents died when he was young."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Santana offered and squeezed the arm that was wrapped around her own. Brittany shrugged, she had never really had the time to think about her ancestors, nor had she particularly been interested, yet she could not quite help but think she had missed out on the grandparent/granddaughter relationship so many of her friends loved. Brittany had Valerie's parents when she was younger, however both were strict Christians and less than fun. Now only her grandmother remained alive and did not manage to see her very often. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." Brittany smiled reassuringly, guiding Santana through the halls. "This is like a museum." she observed.

"Yeah." Santana smiled, "Yeah it is." her heart fluttered. The more time she spent with the other girl, and the more conversation they shared, the more the brunette found herself growing fonder of the dancer. Never had she met anyone so carefree and uncomplicated. Brittany was quirky, a breath of fresh air and unlike anyone Santana had met in her life.

They sat crossed legged, next to one another on the grass of Ellis Island over looking downtown Manhattan. The famous skyline presenting itself in all it's glory, as the sun set a silky sheen on the river, neither girl able to tear their eyes away from the scene before them. "It's beautiful." Santana sighed. They had sat in the serene tranquillity and calm, a comfortable silence enveloping the two beauties as they simply enjoyed the moment.

"I'm not sorry." Brittany stated out of the blue. The brunette turned her head to look at the girl beside her. A questioning look adorned the chef, urging the blonde to continue. "I'm not sorry I pushed you onto the floor on the bus." Santana became further confused. Before she could say anything, Brittany continued. "Because of that, because you fell on your butt," Santana rolled her eyes, she was fully aware of the events. "I learned something personal about you."

"That I had a soft landing?" the brunette replied with a small laugh.

"What?" Brittany asked, her eyes searching Santana's. "No, you have a nice butt." she said quickly.

"You learned I had a nice butt?"

"No I'm just saying you have a nice butt."

"Thank you." Santana replied. "But what did you learn?"

"You're gay." Brittany stated without accusation or malice. Santana bit her lip nervously, her gaze diverted to her feet.

"Yeah." she said quietly, unsure of the dancer's tone and what thoughts were presiding in her mind.

"It's ok." the blonde replied with a smile. Santana lifted her eyes and returned Brittany's smile. "You never told me."

"You never asked." the brunette conceived with a shrug. Brittany rested her head on Santana's shoulder.

"You can tell me anything. You can trust me."

"I know." Santana replied. She did know. Brittany was the first person in a long time she felt she could trust, she was someone Santana felt completely relaxed around, and whilst she was not used to volunteering information about herself, she was sure Brittany would be the person to help her learn.

"There's one more place I want take you before it gets dark." the blonde said sleepily from Santana's shoulder.

"Are you tired?"

"No, I'm fine." Brittany replied.

"Lead the way then oh personal tour guide." the Latina laughed. "Although I am very comfortable right here." she lay her head atop Brittany's, gazing out to the tall buildings as the whole of Manhattan went about their daily business. Brittany smiled as she felt the pressure of Santana's head upon her own. She tentatively reached across the brunette's lap and picked up her hand, giving a gentle friendly squeeze. The Latina scrunched her eyes closed. It was too perfect, she had thought, she had never felt so relaxed and so wanted. The dancer had gone out of her way to befriend the brunette and it overwhelmed her somewhat. Reluctantly she pulled away from a confused blonde, jumping to her feet, she was in danger of feeling things for Brittany and she had to distance herself if she wanted to be her friend. Sensing the surprise of her sudden movement upon Brittany, Santana smiled and held out her hand. "Come on." she said waving her hand for the blonde to latch onto it. "Before it gets dark." she explained. The dancer beamed, flashing her teeth and took the proffered hand, yanking herself to her feet.

"If you would like to come with me Miss Lopez, I shall take you to our next destination." Brittany offered her arm to the brunette who laughed at the girl's formality. The blonde began walking, causing the brunette to look around nervously.

"Err, Britt?" she said, shortening the other girl's name without noticing, "The ferry is that way." she said, pointing in the opposite direction. The blonde's eyes widened slightly before turning around.

"Very good. You've been paying attention." she feigned, aware of the fact she made a faux pas. It caused Santana to laugh, it was like a symphony to the blonde's ears and was determined to make the brunette laugh as often as possible. Santana did not correct her companion, she knew the game she was playing and was content to play along for she was having the most fun she had endured in a long time, her mind was in her own little world as Brittany guided them both toward the ferry.

xx

By the time they had gotten to the top, the blue sky had taken on a brand new persona. It was painted with an artistic quality. The shades of blue and purple, pink and orange bounced off the surrounding buildings and reminded Brittany of an elegant rainbow. She gasped at the beauty and clapped her hands slightly with excitement as she hit the cool air of the dusk evening. Santana smiled, the view could not be more perfect. Not only was the sky as magical as a painting, the city lights began to twinkle as the night drew in, office blocks and apartments dotted with random speckles of light. Then there was Brittany. A thousand what smile to brighten the darkest of days, to light up the sky of night. Golden locks glistened in the fading sunlight, a halo encircling the blonde. Her face aglow from the warm rays, eyes as bright as day. The brunette felt an eerie calmness wash over her and softly laughed as Brittany summoned her closer to the edge, her silken brunette locks flailing lazily in the light breeze. She inched closer, her stomach gently somersaulting as she gained ground, unsure if it was her friend or the sheer height the cause , nervously she stepped closer. Sensing her trepidation, Brittany held out a steady hand, for which a genuinely grateful Santana took hold. Breathing a sigh of relief and momentarily closing her eyes, her knees gently touched the wall, indicating the chef had gone as far as she could. Taking one last deep breath, she opened her inquisitive brown eyes and gasped at the sight before her. She was in awe. If she had thought the view looked spectacular from several feet away, it was nothing compared to what she was seeing right now. She bit on her bottom lip as she felt a strong, warm pair of arms wrap tightly around her waist, releasing it when she felt Brittany rest her chin upon the brunette's shoulder. "Don't be afraid." the blonde whispered tenderly. "I've got you." she reassured. Her words penetrating Santana's mind, the meaning behind them full of ambiguity.

"It's beautiful." Santana stated with simplicity. Brittany smiled and licked her lips subconsciously before replying.

"I think that's your favourite phrase today."

"When I moved here, I didn't know this city offered so much beauty." she said quietly as leaned back into the blonde's embrace.

"It's full of surprises." Brittany admitted, unsure if they were still talking about the city itself.

"Thank you." The brunette said, she patted the hands clasped around her stomach before gently breaking free of the dancer's grasp.

"For what?" the blonde asked.

"For today." began the chef. "For showing me there's more to life than chef whites, sharp knives and sweaty kitchens."

"You make your job sound so exciting." Brittany laughed.

"Only when I get to meet people like you." Santana admitted shyly, her eyes drifted to the floor once more. Brittany had an effect on the brunette that had her behaving almost completely uncharacteristically. When Santana Lopez wanted something, Santana Lopez would go out of her way to get it, so much was her will to succeed. Brittany appeared to zap all energy from the brunette, leaving her unsure with a misplaced confidence. Brittany gazed at her with a look the other woman could not quite place.

"Santana?" Began the blonde.

"Brittany?" Santana mimicked with a smirk.

"Ohmygod, it is you, I knew it was you. I bet my wife fifty bucks it was you." A tall chunky, mousy haired man was barrelling towards the two women. "Take a picture Dana. Come on!"

"Excuse me?" Santana asked, exasperated. "You can't just come over here and interrupt our, our . . ." she was unable to complete that sentence, as she was unsure exactly how to define this outing.

"Gerry honey, the lady's right." the wife said as she approached. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, no problem." Brittany said.

"We saw your show last night, you were terrific." Gerry said as he sidled up to the blonde. "Dana, the camera." he said pointing to the item around her neck. Santana was visibly riled, unused to such intrusion. Brittany shrugged her shoulders and offered an apologetic pout. Santana rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Gimme the camera." she demanded, her hand out, waiting impatiently for the offending article. "Get in." she sighed as Dana reluctantly handed over her prized possession.

"Are you sure?" she asked timidly.

"Yes." Santana replied and lined up the shot. No sooner has she held up the camera had she pushed her finger down on the button.

"Is it ok?" Gerry asked.

"Perfect." sneered Santana.

"Your friend is a little crabbish." Dana noted quietly to the Broadway star.

"She needs feeding." Brittany explained with a firm nod. The other woman nodded along with her. "Can I ask you a favour before you leave?" Dana nodded her agreement with eagerness. "Could you take a photo of us?" she asked holding out her cell phone. The older woman took the phone from Brittany's grip and waited as the blonde pulled Santana into her side, firstly earning a questioning gaze before realisation set in. Brittany threw her arm across the back of Santana's shoulders, the Latina leaned further into the dancer, her arm hugging Brittany's waist. Both smiled widely as they posed, relaxing once the shutter sounded loudly. Dana handed the phone back to the blonde and voiced her thanks.

"Right. Well thank you Ms Pierce." Dana offered.

"You're welcome." she replied with a smile and watched the couple slope off, Dana slapping her husband's shoulder as they retreated. "I'm sorry about that." the blonde offered in way of apology to her companion. Santana sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

"No, I'm sorry, I forget you're like a star around here."

"It was cute." the blonde smiled as she bumped shoulders with her friend, which earned her a raised eyebrow.

"I have been described many things Brittany, and cute is not one of them." Brittany's eyes shifted upwards with a light shrug of her shoulders as Santana inadvertently scolded her.

"First time for everything. Who knew you could be so possessive." the blonde offered with a smirk. Santana opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a rolling roar. "I guess you are hungry." Brittany laughed. The brunette's cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

"I guess so." Santana agreed. "Want to get some dinner?" she asked hopefully. Brittany pondered the question for a moment, her brows furrowed in thought. Santana waited impatiently for the blonde to respond.

"Of course." she said brightly, finally putting the chef out of her misery.

"Tease." Santana accused as she nudged Brittany towards the exit.

"You've seen nothing yet." Brittany mumbled, leaving a confused brunette motionless, unsure if her ears had heard correctly.

xx

Dinner, it turned out was a quiet affair, both women tired from their exhausting day. Shy smiles and casual gazes were shared across the table as the two ate their burgers. Santana was adamant she wanted a casual meal, having spent so many hours in upmarket restaurants. She craved normalcy, she craved something as detached as possible from her everyday life. She also craved a burger. That is how Brittany and Santana found themselves in McDonalds. It was quick, it was easy, simple food, Santana smiled at the irony, it was how she depicted her friendship with the dancer. Empire State of Mind was the epitome of hard work and maintenance, something the Latina had battled with in previous years when it came to making friends. She chuckled as Brittany slurped on her milkshake, indicating she had reached the end of her drink before slamming the empty cup onto the table and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"You liked that?" Santana asked with a huge smile.

"Strawberry, my favourite." the dancer replied. "I don't drink them often, but when I do, I remember how much I love it." she offered.

"It makes it more special." the brunette declared. "Makes you appreciate something more when you don't have it as much."

"It does." Brittany said, she stroked her fingers over Santana's that were placed on the table before her. The blonde was intoxicated by the brunette, she had certainly left a lasting impression on Brittany, who from their brief meetings was left wanting more. "Like a prize." she muttered as she gazed into the warm, inviting brown eyes before her. Santana's bashfulness was prevalent, a blush sneaking upwards, caressing her cheeks. Sensing the slight nervousness emanating from the brunette, Brittany retreated slightly, polishing off the rest of her fries that sat in the lid of her burger box. "I didn't think you would want to eat in a place like this, I mean, it's hardly gourmet." the blonde laughed. Santana shrugged.

"Sometimes I just want a complete break. Sometimes I become critical of the food I'm eating and it detaches from the company and feels like work. I didn't want that with you. Today is all about the company." she explained.

"You're so smart." Brittany gasped as she stared at the other woman in awe.

"Not really, it's how it is. It was purely selfish motivation." began the chef, "And it's true, it's like if you hung out at musical shows in your spare time, and don't tell me you've never deconstructed a music video."

"I did once, I tried to record Janet Jackson on VHS and when I pulled it out of the machine, all the brown tape stuff got caught and it got messy." Santana narrowed her eyes as Brittany began her story, smiling widely with adoration by the time her tale had ended. The brunette didn't have the heart to correct the blonde who seemed happy enough in her own little world. Santana could not help but adore everything about the woman before her. However there was one thing she had not been privy to when it came to Brittany. She had not seen her perform and she was longing to see for herself what had earned the dancer so much praise.

"I want to see your show." Santana stated, her chin resting comfortably in her hand that was propped up by her elbow on the table.

"Really?" Brittany shrieked with excitement earning a few stares.

"Yeah. Really." the brunette agreed. "I mean, you've seen me at my place of work, sooooo," she drawled, "I want to see you at yours. I want to see for myself just how good everyone says you are."

"Do you even like musicals?" Brittany asked. The brunette shrugged.

"Not particularly." she started, "but I like you." Brittany could not help the grin that spread across her obviously happy features.

"I'll get you tickets."

"I only need one." Santana stated with a frown.

"Don't you want to take someone?" Brittany asked puzzled.

"I don't need to." the brunette stated.

"Bring Quinn." the blonde suggested.

"Why Quinn?" the chef replied curtly.

"I don't know," Brittany said with a shrug, "I guess you guys seem close." The brunette frowned, wondering exactly how her friendship with the restaurant manager was perceived. Brushing it off, Santana thought carefully for a moment, she raised an eyebrow and formed a smirk.

"I could bring Kurt. Berry would be so pissed." she laughed.

"That's mean." Brittany chuckled.

"Trust me, it's not." Santana replied, wiping a small stray tear from the corner of her eye, "Besides, she's seen it already."

"I'll get you two tickets." Began the blonde, "On one condition."

"What's that?" the chef asked with trepidation.

"You cook me dinner." the blonde ordered. "At your place." Santana's eyes widened slightly, taking in what Brittany was asking of her, or was she reading too much into it? Right, friends have dinner at each other's apartments all the time, she needed to calm herself down. Slowly her head started to move, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah." she concluded. "You do realise you just invited yourself around to my apartment?"

"I know." Brittany shrugged, "I figured I could be waiting forever if I left it for you to invite me." Santana laughed at the blonde's reasoning. She knew it to be true. The brunette was over protective of her private life and had the blonde not been so brazen, the thought would never have crossed Santana's mind.

For a March evening it was unseasonably dry and fairly pleasant. There remained a chill in the air, leaving both girls shivering as they stepped out into the cool air. Without hesitation, Brittany hugged herself into Santana's side, not shy of human contact. The chef smiled again, now accustomed to her new tactile friend. It gave her comfort, being so far from home with little friends and no family. Santana sighed, it was like Brittany was all of her friends and family rolled into one, she felt relaxed and safe and wanted. She vowed not to take it for granted. The Chef had never had anyone to call her best friend, she had close friends and confidents, but never anyone she felt so comfortable with than she did with Brittany. She hummed with satisfaction, earning a quizzical look from her friend.

"You ok?" the blonde asked.

"Perfect." Santana replied with a raw honesty. They had decided to walk the few blocks to Brittany's home, it may have been cold, but with the warmth of one another in their huddle, they quickly warmed up as they pounded the sidewalk. Neither had wanted the day to end, prolonging their time together by walking the distance was welcomed by both women. As they approached Brittany's building, they slowed down, not wanting to part. "I've had the best day." Santana admitted.

"Me too." Brittany smiled sweetly. "Thank you Santana. Today is the first day since I got here I haven't thought about home." she admitted. The chef thought, donning a confused expression which encouraged the blonde to continue. "Even in London I would think of home every day and being so far away. But, I don't know," she shrugged, "somehow I didn't need to today."

"Until now." Santana smirked.

"That's not the point." Brittany replied, slowly coming to a halt outside of her building. "I don't know what I'm trying say." she admitted slightly forlornly.

"It's ok." the brunette replied. "I think I have a new best friend and that means I'm not going anywhere, so you can take as long as you need to figure it out." Brittany's response was a simple hug. She took Santana into her arms as if they had been doing it for years, it was seamless and easy. The Latina snaked her arms around the dancer's waist, relaxing into the warmth radiating from the other woman.

"Thank you." Brittany said again.

"What for this time?" Santana mumbled into the blonde's shoulder. Brittany pulled away, taking Santana's hand into her own.

"I know it's not easy for you to open up and talk about your feelings." she started, her ocean blue eyes conveying pride, "I feel honoured that you feel you can say things like that to me. And just so you know, you're my new best friend too." she concluded with a radiating smile, only to be matched by Santana. "Do you want to come in for a coffee or something?" she asked with hope.

"As much as I would love to, I'm going to pass." she watched the disappointment flit across Brittany's eyes. She squeezed the hand she was still holding, "But hey, next time." she promised.

"Next time." Brittany repeated, happy at the thought they would be spending more time together in the near future. Santana was completely different to anyone else she had ever met. Most of her friends had been dancers, actors or singers, having spent so much time in the entertainment business and for the most part they had been as open and optimistic as herself. Sure she had encountered other people and would always get along with them very well, it was her nature to do so. Santana seemed like someone who would keep people at arm's length and no matter how sure of herself she was in her profession, she appeared wary of befriending anyone. Her first feelings towards Santana when she was sat at the bar of the restaurant was empathy, despite being surrounded by people at work, she was not in a hurry to leave or go home. This indicated to the dancer that Santana was alone, she had not even checked her cell phone for messages. Being new in town, she herself had little contact with people outside of the theatre or dance studio. So perceptive was the blonde, she made a decision there and then. She ordered a beer. Her thoughts were interrupted as Santana leaned forward for a brief departing hug. Brittany made another decision. She placed her lips gently upon the Latina's smooth cheek, offering a sweet goodbye kiss. It earned a shy blush, downcast eyes and a wry smile. The blonde gushed at the cuteness emanating from the brunette. "You're so cute." Brittany laughed softly. Santana's eyes shot up, immediately searching the dancer's, a hint of amusement mixed with shock.

"Let's get one thing straight Pierce. Santana Lopez does not do cute." she stated sternly. "Hmm, what did I tell you earlier?" The brunette recalled, "You're lucky I like you, not many people get away with calling me cute once, let alone twice." Santana noticed the glint in Brittany's eye, "And don't think you can say things like that all the time." she warned, pointing at a smirking blonde.

"Whatever." Brittany laughed, much to the other woman's dismay. "Now, go home." The blonde ordered, "Anyone would think you couldn't keep away from me." she winked. Santana rolled her eyes, she knew it to be true, but no one else needed to know that. "Go home San." Brittany reached out and ran a finger over the spot she had just kissed, "Rest that pretty head of yours."

"Ok, I'm going now." She reluctantly agreed.

"You ok walking home?"

"I'll be fine, I'm a badass." Santana stated proudly.

"Bye then badass. Text me when you're home."

"I will." The brunette promised with a smile and reluctantly turned to leave, starting her journey with slow small steps. "Thank you Brittany." she called out over her shoulder. She looked back, offering a smile and a small wave before she turned the corner. Sighing with happy satisfaction, she meandered home, replaying the day in her mind, Brittany very much at the forefront of those thoughts.

xx

Laying in bed having shed her clothes and crawling straight into the covers from exhaustion, Santana lifted her phone and typed out a quick message of thanks and assurance that she had arrived home safely. In only the few seconds it took for a reply to beep loudly, the brunette had already found herself drifting off. The reply was simple. It was the photograph taken at the Top of the Rock of herself and Brittany earlier that evening. She smiled lazily, eyeing the photo as her eyes drifted shut and into a peaceful slumber, phone still clutched in hand, her heart full of will. Just over a mile away, the same scene occurred in a Chelsea apartment, blonde hair splayed across a pillow as the bed's occupant lay happily dreaming, cell phone laying in her hand, her heart full of hope.


	5. Tiptoe

**A/N**: Firstly I have to apologise for the delay, real life has played havoc with my writing schedule. Secondly, thank you so much for all the reviews and alerts on this story, I can't begin to tell you just how much I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

This is for S - take a break girl!

Also for any Brittana fans affected by the riots in the UK, it's been a hard week for us, but we won't let them ruin our cities, our country or our spirit!

* * *

><p><strong>Tip<strong>

Tiptoeing was not something she was used to. She liked to get things done. She was precise and systematic and the idea of tiptoeing was a little frustrating. However, she found herself doing just that as she tried to avoid the shattered glass and spilt water on her bedroom floor. It was a delicate situation, she had to avoid being hurt, one false move and she could find herself pierced by a dangerous shard. Making it to the bathroom safely, she breathed with immense relief, quickly checking her soles for any damage. Her feet were fine.

She was used to breakages and spillages, it came with the territory in her line of work. Clearing up the mess came second nature, she was extremely methodical, it allowed her mind to wander as she did so. Thoughts drifted to a particular beautiful blonde. A blonde who was sweet, caring and ever so tactile. Santana wasn't used to such touchy feely people, in fact, in previous years, she would recoil almost instantly, her defences springing into action and protecting herself. She had not been shown much physical affection as a child, and as the only offspring of busy professionals, Santana found herself alone on many occasion. She was used to her own company and had grown accustomed to not share with others. Making friends was difficult, she was always the quiet girl in the corner that no one knew just quite what to say to. By the time she made it into high school, she had made what she would call two best friends. However when she fell in love with one of them, albeit unexpectedly, the two girls no longer wanted to be her friend. It was then the Latina threw herself into her passion, her cooking. She longed for the evenings her parents would entertain within their wealthy social circle, not for the opportunity to mingle with some of LA's elite social classes, but for the chance to hang out in the kitchen with the hired chef for the evening.

The two best friends; Lauren and Tasha. Santana had not meant to fall in love with Lauren, it just happened. The three were inseparable, in a bid to become popular, the three of them tried out for the cheer squad, Santana and Lauren had made it, reluctantly leaving an encouraging Tasha on the sidelines. It was during this time the two cheerleaders grew closer, until the moment Lauren stole away Santana's precious diary and was less than thrilled to read about the skeletons in the young Latina's closet. Santana instantly became a social outcast. Her armour toughened, she shut everybody out and vowed the best company she could and would keep was her own. It was more than she desired to think about right now, yet the incident had contributed to the woman she had become. Yet it was her profession that had taught her the importance of trust and team work, to believe that you could always be better and that pleasing people and making them happy was the most rewarding thing a human being could ever ask for. Until she met Brittany. The beautiful blonde dancer that confused, scared and excited her all at once. Brittany asked for nothing. She provided her time, her friendship and her humility without ever asking for anything in return. Santana felt no threat from the blonde, just the hand of genuine friendship and took a hold of it and was clinging on for dear life.

Brittany, although adorably uncomplicated and loving, was a mystery. Firstly, Santana was unsure if the dancer was offering anything else other than friendship, though there were signs of there possibly being more. Secondly, when she had shown any possible romantic interest in the brunette, she recoiled somewhat reluctantly. Yes, confusing was the word, yet it made Santana further intrigued and made her believe that if something more were ever offered, she would be willing to give it a try, for Santana Lopez was ultimately a decisive person and it had all happened on one day. She reached for her cell phone, swiping her finger over the screen of the device to reveal the photograph of herself and Brittany during a spectacular sunset. That was the day. That was the day she knew.

**Toe**

She tiptoed lightly across the polished floor, moving gracefully like a swan across water. Brittany danced serenely to the gentle beat emanating from the stereo. Not only was dancing her profession, it was her release, her way of letting out her pent up energy and emotions when she tried to fathom exactly what was going through her mind. It helped her cleanse and think clearly. It was like mind preparation before she was able to talk to someone about it. As the music dwindled down, so did the blonde, turning her lithe body slowly, she lowered herself until she was sat on the floor. The music had ceased, her thoughts had perished, all she could hear was her hoarse breath, penetrating her ears, her heartbeat as loud as a drum beat. She closed her eyes and gulped for air. Her chest rose with every breath, giving in, she lay backwards, her shoulders hitting the wood beneath her. She lay, thoughtless until her breathing evened out and she regained a steady heart beat. This morning the dancer had pushed herself to the extreme, giving herself a thorough physical and mental workout, having so much playing on her mind. Opening her eyes, her gaze settled on the water stained ceiling, scrunching her nose up at the unpleasant sight, her mind quickly focussed on the reason she had entered the old dance studio in the first place. Santana Lopez.

The chef baffled her. She intrigued her. If there was a word that Brittany would use to describe her attraction to the brunette it would be addiction. Santana offered so much yet so little and the dancer could not fathom where she stood with the other woman. However, one thing she was sure of, in Santana, Brittany had made a friend for life. They had instantly formed a connection with one another, found it incredibly easy to be in one another's company and had grown closer over the past few weeks. The day they had spent exploring the City together had been defining. Brittany knew for sure her attraction ran deeper than admiration and friendship and the more time spent with Santana since had cemented her romantic interest in the brunette. Whenever the blonde would show affection toward the brunette, she was often met with uncertainty. She knew Santana was gay, the brunette had inadvertently blurted as much and really did not seem to be guarded about her sexuality. What she did seem guarded about though, was her emotions. When Brittany had told Santana she could trust her, she meant it, never did the blonde say something she did not mean.

She sighed and clambered to her feet, briefly looking at her reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors. Brittany saw an unusually tired self, the demands of the show were starting to take it's toll and she found herself willing for a break. While she would normally find herself surrounded by people when feeling so desolate, today Brittany welcomed the solitude the dancing studio afforded her. For once she could not drown herself in a sea of happy people. It all related back to Santana, the blonde's current state was indicative of her feelings for the brunette and subsequently went about dealing with her emotions in a way which would be welcomed by the woman at the forefront of her thoughts. As the dancer approached her belongings near the door, she grabbed her water bottle, took a quick swig and threw it back into her bag. She reached next for her cell phone, swiping her finger over the screen of the device to reveal the photograph of herself and Santana during a spectacular sunset. That was the day. That was the day she knew.

xx

Tiptoeing around the large circular table, carefully laying out silverware, wine glasses and condiments, Kurt hummed merrily to himself. Giving the cutlery an extra polish as he went. Quinn stood the opposite side of the table, counting the places and ensuring the chairs were aligned, and napkins straight. Santana stood in the doorway of the kitchen observing the scene before her with mild amusement. Into the scene waltzed Rachel, laying several baskets of bread on the table for the impending guests. Catching an earful of the Matre D's tune, the brunette proceeded to sing at full pelt. Santana laughed as she watched the sudden shock hit Quinn, her body jolted, her eyes widened and her head shook a little upon the impact of the waitress' voice upon her eardrums. Kurt paused his humming, cocked his head to the side, his back straightened and a hand found his hip. "Rachel!" he blasted, less than enthused. The brunette smiled and continued to sing, now with more emphasis and began dancing in circles around her displeased colleague. The chef kept a safe distance, enjoying the scene that played out before her. "Rachel!" Kurt yelled again, this time with a sharp shrill. The girl in question lowered her tone and limped into a muted hum, keeping the tune flowing. "You always have to ruin my songs." he accused. The words halted the twirling girl who looked at the Matre D with a stern frown.

"I think you'll find the song does not belong to yourself and was in fact written by the very talented and esteemed Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber." Kurt rolled his eyes, Rachel Berry was always so pedantic. "Which makes it fair game." she smiled and continued to waltz away. Kurt looked up and saw Santana standing, watching them. He offered a pleading and frustrated looking, only to be met with a bemused raised single eyebrow with matching smirk. She glanced beyond her friend and caught the blonde manager gazing at her. The chef's expression remained the same, only faltering slightly with a questioning edge. Quinn shook herself from her thoughts and blushed slightly, embarrassed that Santana had caught her staring. Clearing her throat, she yelled across the restaurant.

"We have a large party booking."

"I can see that." Santana replied, with an equal amount of volume. "What time?" she asked.

"Early. Noon." came the reply from Kurt, not bothering to look up from his duties. Quinn nodded in affirmation, a small smile remained on her delicate features.

"No problem." Santana replied, her eyes not wavering from the blonde before her. Feeling flustered under the scrutiny of her colleague, Quinn continued to busy herself with the table. The chef smirked, she loved having such affect on people and several months ago would have welcomed the attention and played ball, flirting was something she was good at, although anything beyond that had the brunette in a tizzy. She looked at Quinn with intrigue, however, this was not the blonde that in recent times had constantly hijacked her thoughts.

The last few weeks since their day out had been agonisingly slow, she had been longing for another whole day with Brittany, however, due to mismatched schedules it had not yet materialised. Santana sighed, her thoughts drifting back to that day once again, the intimacy and closeness the blonde had bestowed upon her. They had shared several brunch dates and the occasional drink after work, but not enough to propel their friendship further. Santana very much felt at a stalemate. She had convinced herself friendship was the only course of action prior to their sightseeing trip, however, that day had the brunette re-evaluating everything about Brittany and the relationship they shared. Tonight Santana was finally going to see Brittany in her show. She had heard just how good the blonde was and was excited to finally be able to see for herself. She was already in awe of the dancer and didn't think it would be possible for her to think any more highly of Brittany than she already did. She was simply happy to be sharing this part of Brittany's life. She smiled wistfully. It might be possible that the brunette's feelings for the dancer ran even deeper than she thought.

xx

She could hear a commotion outside of her kitchen. So focused was she on the task at hand, preparing food for a large group of people, Santana simply could not look up. She was used to working in such an environment. Suddenly the doors burst open, a bright light was shining from the doorway and in her peripheral vision she could tell this was no ordinary scene. She was also aware of the lack of movement from her staff and barked accordingly.

"Food does not cook itself people." she yelled with purpose, smirking as she heard work resuming. She spared a glance at the door, frowning when she spotted Quinn talking to a tall gentleman in front of a television camera. 'What the hell?' the Chef internally voiced as she continued with her task at hand. Turning to check a pan on the stove she came face to face with said camera, wondering just how stealthy a camera man can move with such gargantuan equipment, either that or she was too blinkered on what she was doing.

"What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?" she asked angrily, shaking the pan before replacing it on the stove.

"San, don't swear, you're on TV." Quinn urged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Is this thing live?" the annoyed Chef asked, looking curiously at her blonde colleague.

"No." the guy in the suit next to her urged. "We'll cut that bit out."

"So what the fuck?" Santana asked again, clearly irked by the camera's presence.

"Let me explain." Came a familiar voice from the back. Santana's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her gaze softening as the blonde emerged from the crowd. "Hey San."

"Brittany, what are you doing here, and what 's all this?" she asked, visibly calmer.

"It's Will's 40th birthday and his 20th anniversary on Broadway, the local news are doing a piece on him and how he is celebrating."

"When the producer found out they were coming here to celebrate, he wanted to feature the restaurant too as it's a popular hangout for Broadway stars." Quinn further explained.

"That still doesn't explain why you're all in my kitchen." she stated. She chanced a glance at Brittany, who was watching her with mild amusement, she could not help but smile a little in response. The blonde did funny things to her. But this was her domain, her kitchen, where she was boss and she could not let that facade drop.

"Britt, I appreciate why you're here, but could you like, leave?" she asked, wary of upsetting the blonde.

"San, they're paying us." Quinn said through gritted teeth, "And we're going to be on TV, it's great publicity." the restaurant manager said, all but begging her Chef to be on her best behaviour.

"I don't want to be on TV, I don't want any money. I just want to do my job. Please!" the brunette argued, "Is that too much to ask?"

"You're so sexy right now." Brittany muttered close to the Chef. Santana did a double take at the blonde, disbelieving she heard the other woman correctly. The brunette lost all coherent thought as she was chopping through an onion, she yelped as pain shot straight through the nerves in her hand. Brown eyes widened in terror at the sudden realisation of what had happened. Daring to look down, the claret liquid oozed over her flesh and onto the chopping board beneath, she physically felt the colour drain from her face. The commotion around her was lost in the haze of the hysteria emanating from Santana. She instinctively wrapped her other hand fully around the wound to help stop the flow of blood. She felt hands on her back pushing her toward the sink. An arm reached across her and turned on the tap, shoving Santana's hands beneath the cold gushing water.

"Let me look." A concerned voice floated across her ear, a warm hand was rubbing her back soothingly. Santana closed her eyes, pulling her mind from the trance she found herself in and suddenly everything had sprung back into life. She could hear the hustle of the kitchen, orders being shouted, pans rattling, plates clashing, the sound of skin rubbing against fabric, her senses homed in on the hand still on her back, the steady breaths in her ear. Opening her eyes, Santana turned her head slightly to her right, bright blue eyes bore into her with heart rendering concern. "San." the voice spoke again, a little shaky with worry.

"Hurts." Santana hissed, unwilling to pull her hand away from the cut.

"It looks bad." Brittany replied. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Please don't tell me you're apologising for what you said." The Latina joked with a smirk, making light of the situation. Brittany smiled warmly at her friend. She brought her hand up and gently wiped away a stray tear with her thumb. Santana blushed at the intimate gesture, enjoying the feel of the blonde's skin upon hers.

"I'm not sorry for that." The dancer confirmed coyly. "I'm just sorry you got hurt by me-"

"Don't." the Chef interrupted. "It's not your fault, I should have been paying attention." she explained carefully. "Besides," she continued, cocking her head to the side, "it's one of the perils of the job, comes with the territory."

"San," Quinn was now at her other side. 'Fabulous' thought the Chef, she now had two blonde's fawning over her. "I got the first aid box."

"I think you're gonna need more than Q, got any sutures in there?" Santana laughed, looking back at the pink water swirling down the plug.

"Don't joke. This is serious." The manager said. "Here," she grabbed a cloth and held it out. "Put it in this." the brunette reluctantly pulled her hands from the water. Hovering them over the towel, she let go of her injured hand, the hit of air stinging her once again. Three pairs of eyes looked at the injury, three pairs of eyes widened in horror. Santana grabbed at the cloth and tightened it around the cut as the blood began to gush following it's momentary pause.

"Was . . ." Quinn began with a gulp, "was that, err, bone?" she asked uneasily.

"I'm taking you to the ER." Brittany stated.

"It's fine, a band aid will do it."

"I don't think so Santana, you even said yourself you need sutures." Quinn offered.

"I was kidding." the Chef exclaimed with exasperation.

"No San, you may have damaged nerves or something, I'm taking you to the hospital." the dancer ordered.

"Don't you have like a TV show to record or something?" The blondes were ganging up on Santana and she felt uncomfortable and slightly cornered. She had cut herself before, sure, but they were usually little nicks, just enough to break the skin, she would put a band aid over it and carry on. This time it was different. It hurt like hell. She was also frustrated that she had allowed it to happen in the first place. The fact Brittany had distracted her so easily. This was why she never mixed business with pleasure. At Santana's harsh words, the blonde dancer recoiled, the Chef immediately regretted the tone she had used upon seeing the hurt in the blue orbs. "Britt, I'm sorry." she said immediately. "This was not supposed to happen." she explained with a frustrated sigh.

"It's not my show." Brittany stated, "I don't need to be here. I'm not due on stage for another," she paused and looked at her watch. She then extended her fingers as if counting, "seven hours." she concluded with a satisfied nod. "Now," she said, looping her arm through Santana's, "I'm taking you to the hospital and you're not going to argue." Santana smiled, ducked her head, catching her lip between her teeth. She leant toward the blonde and spoke quietly into her ear.

"Only because I'm a sucker for demanding blue eyed blondes." she smirked, earning a bashful grin from her friend.

Xx

Hospitals were not exactly her favourite place. She glanced around the waiting room nervously, the throb of her hand almost unbearable. Brittany sat beside her, filling in a form on behalf of the injured girl.

"Name."

"You know my name." Santana replied.

"Right, Santana Lopez. Date of birth."

"9, 20, 84."

"Ooh September baby, cute." The blonde replied.

"Hurry up Britt, I'm about to pass out here." the brunette urged, feeling slightly woozy, she placed her head on the dancer's shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Right sorry." she said, scribbling information down, Santana reeled off her address before the blonde had even asked for it.

"Occupation."

"Really Britt?"

"Right, Chef." Brittany stated. "Give a brief description of injury." the blonde smiled, "San was cutting up some onions in the kitchen and me and Quinn and some producer dude and a camera man were watching her because we were sort of filming this segment for Will's birthday. But San wasn't happy and she was sort of swearing and stuff and she just kept chopping faster and then Quinn said they had to do it and were getting paid, but San said she didn't care, she didn't want to be on TV, even though I think she would look hot on TV and totally rock it, she could be like the next Gordon Ramsey or something, but less male and less ugly, she could be like super sexy swearing Chef Lopez. Anyway, she didn't want the money either, she just wanted to do her job and she was totally hot, I mean like, super sexy and so I told her, but not so anyone else could hear and then the knife slipped and she cut her hand with it and there was blood like everywhere and Quinn ran off to get the first aid box. Santana went to the sink and put her hand under the water and I helped, I think I would be a good nurse because I like taking care of people, except you can't dance much in hospitals I heard it's like illegal or something. I said I would take her to the hospital and at first she didn't want to go but I said she had to, I think she thinks I'm hot too. San was crying, but you know what they say about onions."

"I can't believe you wrote that." Santana said lazily, tiredness creeping over her.

"There was more but I couldn't fit it in the box." the blonde shrugged. The Chef smiled and hugged Brittany's side.

"You're very cuddly, are you ok?"

"Tired. Hurts." Santana slurred.

"Miss Lopez?" a voice called from the far side of the room. Brittany looked at the Latina beside her making no effort to move.

"San, come on." Brittany said, pulling Santana to her feet as she stood. "The doctor wants to see us now.

...

Carefully, the tall, dark doctor pulled the cloth away from Santana's hand, concerned by the amount of blood that had poured from the wound.

"Miss Lopez?" The doctor asked. Santana raised her head wearily, her eyes half lidded. "Can you look at me?" she raised her eyes slowly. "Have you taken the pain meds the nurse gave you Miss Lopez?" She nodded her head to indicate a positive response. "Ok, you've lost quite a bit of blood, but nothing to be too concerned about. Are you squeamish?" he asked. She held up her good hand and used her thumb and forefinger to show that yes she was a little wary of blood. "The bleeding has stopped, you did the right thing holding it up and applying pressure." he said as he examined the wound. "Well, that's some gash you got there Miss Lopez, you must have an awesome knife."

"The best." she replied in a sing song like voice.

"So what about your knife skills?" he dared with a snigger to lighten the mood.

"I was distracted." she said, glancing at the blonde beside her. Brittany sat next to her on the bed, legs swinging back and forth, she had a comforting arm wrapped around the brunette as the doctor poked, prodded and looked at the injury. "I'm usually pretty good."

"She's an amazing Chef. You should go to the restaurant."

"Which restaurant do you work at?"

"Empire State of Mind, it's on-"

"I know exactly where it is, I took my wife there on Valentine's Day." Brittany squeezed the brunette subconsciously, remembering the evening they had spent there together. "It was superb."

"Santana's the Head Chef, she's the best." Brittany gushed once again.

"You're bias." Santana laughed lazily.

"How are those pain meds kicking in?" the doctor asked, looking up into brown eyes.

"Good, they're good." she replied with a grin.

"I'm going to give you a local anaesthetic to numb the area and I'm going to suture you up. It's a clean cut, no nerve damage, it doesn't look like you touched the bone either. You're lucky." the doctor paused before continuing with his advice. "You might have some mobility issues, but it shouldn't cause too much trouble. Keep it dry and the sutures can come out in ten days."

"It's ok, she's left handed." Brittany offered nonchalantly with a shrug. Santana's eyes shifted to the side and raised an eyebrow. The doctor's eyes widened, his mouth opened to speak, no words formed and subsequently he resembled a fish, his mouth opening and closing of its own accord. "You look like a fish." the blonde stated. "San does an amazing salmon dish. You should try it."

"I, I will." the doctor replied. "Thank you." taking a deep breath, he continued, "I suggest you rest your hand for a few days, perhaps a week and keep some pain meds nearby for when the anaesthesia wears off."

"Thanks Doc." Santana replied sincerely. "She's right you know." the brunette began, the doctor frowned, unsure which of Brittany's statements the Chef was referring to. "About the salmon, stop by the restaurant with your wife and have a meal on me."

"I'd eat off you." Brittany muttered, out of the doctor's earshot, however, it didn't go unnoticed by the Latina who paused, her mouth agape, again trying to comprehend if what she was hearing was real. Her head was heavy, her mind was swimming and she could barely keep her eyes open, let alone think coherently. It was a mix of the pain medication taking over and the light headedness caused by blood loss. She shook her head, trying to think straight, forgetting already why she was attempting to concentrate on getting her thought process back on track.

"Miss Lopez. Are you ok?" the doctor asked with concern.

"Huh?" Santana cocked her head to the side, spared a glance at Brittany before replying. "Err, yeah. What were we talking about?"

"You said the Doc could come to the restaurant." the blonde recapped. Santana nodded. "So what do you say Doc?" Brittany asked on the Chef's behalf.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." The doctor replied with a smile. He stood, discarding his gloves, he bid the girls farewell, leaving them alone in the single room. Santana sighed, the day had been eventful, she laughed at the whole situation, shaking her head in disbelief. Brittany raised her hand and stroked it down the Latina's back.

"What's so funny?"

"This." Santana said, waving her good hand around mid air. "This whole thing. I'm sitting here with stitches in my hand and huge bandage, I can't work for a few days, all because of you." Brittany's face dropped, her hand fell from the Chef's back, her shoulders hunched and her gaze zoned in on her feet. "Britt," Santana said quickly, "I didn't mean . . ." she paused, her hand rested gently on the blonde's thigh, squeezing it with reassurance, urging the dancer to look at her. The blonde succumbed to the touch, she risked a glance at the brunette, brown eyes shone with both sincerity and warmth. "I mean," Santana continued, "that because you caught me off guard, you said I was sexy, I wasn't expecting it." Santana closed her eyes for a moment and swayed gently.

"Hey." Brittany said, wrapping her arms around the Latina to steady her. "Do you need to lie down?" the blonde asked, her voice coated with concern. Santana nodded her head once again. Keeping the brunette in her arms, she turned, bringing her legs up onto the bed, encouraging Santana to do the same. The brunette complied, following Brittany, laying down on the bed, hugging the blonde before drifting into a light sleep, snuggling into the warmth of Brittany, the girl who had inadvertently caused her injury. The dancer stroked her fingers through the brunette locks, her eyes trained on the ceiling above her, a sense of deja vu washing over her having been in a similar position already that day. Only this time, the ceiling tiles were bright, clean and less dank than that of the dance studio. Training her thoughts to stay focused on the current situation, she could not help but feel an overriding sense of guilt. She decided she needed to voice her thoughts, whether Santana could hear them or not. She needed to say them now before they became lost in a melee of randomness.

"I'm sorry that you got hurt because of me." Brittany began with a whisper, she continued to run her fingers through Santana's hair, "But I'm not sorry of what I said because you were, you are. Sexy I mean. You're like totally hot. But you're more than that, I really like you Santana, when I saw you hurt, I couldn't bare it, I wanted to make it all better." she stated honestly. She smiled broadly, it felt liberating to finally admit her feelings to the brunette, despite the other woman in a state of slumber, for so long they had tiptoed around one another. Regardless, Brittany was happy it was out there, it lifted a weight she had been carrying around with her. It had corrected a dance she had lost the choreography for. She only hoped Santana felt the same way. Becoming sleepy herself, the last thing the blonde thought before she drifted off was the decision that she would repeat the words to Santana when she was in a more coherent state, when she could look into those beautiful big brown eyes and watch them react to her words. Having Santana in her arms while they slept was simply too good a feeling to let go.

xx

Brittany had made it to the theatre amid a panicked rush, having woken up from a deep sleep to Santana gently shaking her awake. The brunette had been concerned the dancer had a performance that night. She too was worried about making it, Brittany had gone out of her way to get tickets for herself and Kurt for that very showing and despite injury, the Chef was determined not to miss it. Having slept for an hour, power napping her way to recharging her batteries, Santana awoke with Brittany's arms wrapped tightly and protectively around her. Gone was the pain in her hand, gone was the uneasiness and worry she had felt for the girl over the past several months, here she felt safe, at home and knew exactly this is what she wanted. She had needed someone in her life that she could rely on, trust and call her own. She had gone years pretending she didn't need it, or trying and failing miserably and now she understood. It was Brittany, a best friend, a potential lover, she was willing to test those waters, to put her friendship at risk, though, she had a nagging feeling it would all be worth it.

Having been discharged and sent on her way, the two shared a taxi to Santana's home, the dancer determined to see the patient home safely. Reluctantly, Brittany said her goodbyes and headed to the theatre, feeling anxious that Santana would be in the audience that night, despite her attempts to persuade the Latina to stay at home and rest. Stubborn was not the word. Silently she was elated Santana was willing to sit through the performance whilst harbouring pain. The girl surely was something special.

Brittany was sitting in her dressing room, applying the last bit of blusher to her cheeks. A sudden knock and burst of energy clattered through the doors, startling the blonde. Standing, she turned to see Mike Chang, her friend and one of the dancers of the show.

"Hey." He offered with a big grin.

"Hi." Brittany replied with an air of suspicion, her eyes wondered around the room before landing back on the tall dark dancer.

"Guess what?" he asked. Brittany stood blankly, she cringed when people would say that, there were just too many possibilities and thinking about it made her brain hurt. She folded her arms across her chest, frowned and shrugged in defeat. Taking the hint she wasn't going to guess, Mike continued. "I got offered a tour with Usher."

"No freaking way!" exclaimed Brittany.

"Way!" Mike replied with excitement.

"Congratulations." Brittany said, wrapping her arms around the muscle machine. "You've always wanted this, I'm so happy for you."

"Come with me on tour." Mike offered excitedly. Brittany's face depicted confusion, unsure if she had just heard the words from her friend's mouth correctly.

"I have another month here, I can't." she shrugged. Aside from the fact she didn't want to, she did not want to hurt her friend's feelings so bluntly.

"When you finish, come with me. Please." he all but begged. The blonde stood thoughtfully, taking the words in. It was a tour, with one of the biggest stars on the planet. Thoughts however quickly dissipated realising she was making a name for herself in the theatre world, going on tour as a back up dancer would more than definitely be a step backwards.

"I don't know Mike, I mean, it's a great opportunity . . ." she trailed off 'for you' she thought, the idea never really penetrating her mind.

"You're the best dancer I've ever worked with." he assured, his eyes lighting up in awe as he spoke.

"Well when you put it like that." she joked, playfully smacking his upper arm. Mike's eyes lingered on the spot she had just touched before looking back up into the blonde's eyes.

"You'll come?" he asked hopefully.

"I didn't say that." she chastised.

"Britt, please come with me." he started with a deep breath, "I, I love you. I'm in love with you." the dancer leaned in, catching the blonde off guard, he captured her lips before bright blue eyes widened with surprise.

"Brittany?" a strangled voice interrupted. Instinctively two heads spun toward the open door, the blonde's eyes widened again with shock at the whole, impossible situation. Her hands reached up, her palms lay flat against Mike's taut chest and she pushed him away with force.

"Santana." the blonde called after the retreating brunette, making an attempt to chase after her. Only the tall Asian had other ideas, grabbing a hold of her wrists, preventing her from moving. "No, no, no, you can't." she said, slightly flustered. "You can't love me."

"I do, I love you, don't you feel it?" he asked with a glimmer of hope.

"No, I . . . Santana and I, we're . . ." Brittany began, her weight shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably, under the gaze of her friend. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. Ten minutes till curtain up, she had no time to reach Santana to explain.

"What?" Mike asked impatiently.

"I don't know . . . I . . . We . . . I really, _really_ like her." she gushed, Mike let go of the blonde's wrists, freeing her from the confines of his big strong hands. Instinctively, Brittany rubbed her wrists, easing the soreness.

"And she feels the same way?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm not sure. I think so." the dancer shrugged.

"What about me?" he pleaded.

"I like you Mike, but only as a friend." Brittany explained honestly. She could not ever remember thinking he would or could be anything more. "I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression of anything more. But I like Santana, I have done since the day I met her." she admitted with a goofy smile adorning her features. Mike smiled with her, only with sadness at his own disappointment and realisation that the blonde didn't feel the same way as he.

"Wow." Mike replied, taking in his friend's words. He shrugged in defeat. "Then you need to go get your girl." he said, wanting his friend to be happy.

"Except the curtain goes up in five minutes. I don't even know if she will still be here." she replied sadly.

xx

She didn't care. Trampling over feet and knocking knees with other patrons as she made her way down the row to her seat, Santana's scowl was firmly etched onto her face. It was a scowl of old, one she had perfected as a petulant child when she didn't get her own way. Slumping down into her seat, she huffed loudly with displeasure. "Hello sunshine." Her companion teased. "Did you find her?" asked Kurt.

"Oh yeah, I found her." the Chef replied bitterly, the threatening tears long gone, replaced with an eerie calm anger.

"What's up?" Kurt asked, studying his friend's face. "You don't wear that scowl well, it clashes with your dress." he said waving his hand in front of the Latina. Santana frowned incredulously, disbelieving the words she was hearing. Shaking her head, she turned and focused back on the matter at hand.

"I found her alright?" she replied. "Sucking face with some tall, dark, handsome loser." Santana got to her feet abruptly, her intention was clear, yet Kurt asked anyway.

"What are you doing now?"

"Leaving." she seethed with venom. The brunette snarled as she felt a hand firmly wrapped around her wrist, yanking her back into her seat. "Hey, watch the hand!" she threatened.

"Sit. Down." Kurt ordered. Santana merely glared at her companion. "She likes you a lot Santana, I've seen the way she looks at you, there has to be some sort of explanation." he offered sweetly. She leaned her head back in the seat and closed her eyes, her thoughts drifted back to the afternoon, how Brittany had looked after her in the hospital, held her in arms as they both slept. Then she saw her with him, his lips on hers.

"Oh did I not mention she's leaving?" She spat, her eyes springing open.

"What?" Kurt asked perplexed by the whole situation.

"Yeah, she and Asian are leaving to go on some mother fucking tour." spat the Chef.

"Stop right there Santana Lopez." Kurt ordered, his hand in front of her face. "Exactly how much of this was spoken directly to your face?" The brunette shrugged, her eyes shifting around the theatre, avoiding Kurt's gaze. "Hmm exactly what I thought." he said smugly. "And did you actually hear Brittany say she was leaving?" Santana pondered the conversation she had overheard, and huffed in realisation that Kurt was again right. The Matre D's smirk grew impossibly wider.

"He said he loved her and he kissed her." she huffed, throwing her arms across her chest.

"You are so unattractive right now." Kurt stated.

"I should never be attractive to you sweet cheeks." Santana replied with a raised eyebrow. Ignoring her comment, Kurt continued.

"Listen to what you are saying Santana,_ he_ told her, _he_ kissed her, I'm guessing you didn't hang around long enough to see how Brittany responded." when Santana could not look Kurt in the eye again, the guy smiled triumphantly. "I so need a TV show."

"But-"

"Talk to her." Kurt cut off the Latina. "Tell her how you feel before there are any more misunderstandings."

"She didn't even bother to come after me." the Chef huffed.

"And you think I'm a drama queen!" Kurt gasped. The brunette shot him a disparaging look, "Santana, the curtain is about to go up, she wouldn't have been able to even if she wanted to, which I'm more than certain she did." Kurt explained, he ran a hand through his hair before returning it atop his crossed legs. "I can't be doing with all this dyke drama, it's bad for my complexion." he finally coaxed a smile out of the brunette, albeit a small one. "This is the plan. We're going to sit here, watch this show, be blown away by the Broadway Goddess Brittany is. You're going to fall even more for her, forget about what just happened and live happily ever after. You think you can manage that?" he asked.

"Let's just start with the sitting and we'll see how it goes from there." Santana offered, suddenly feeling a pang of pain shoot through her injured hand. She winced, took a sharp intake of breath and cradled her hand close to her body.

"Are you ok?" he asked with obvious concern.

"Fine, just sore." she said with bravado, ever the stubborn hero. The lights in the theatre dimmed, the chitter chatter died, Santana leaned across the armrest and whispered, "Let's just get through this." Her eyes travelled to the stage where a spotlight appeared, beneath it was the most beautiful person Santana had ever laid eyes upon. Her breath hitched as the performer began to move, hypnotising Santana into a trance. Getting through this wouldn't be a problem for the brunette, it's the words she would be forced to formulate afterward that would cause her trouble.


	6. Entwined

A/N: I love you all.

A/N2: Massive thanks to my beta lizzylizbian, read her stuff on LJ, it's magical :)

* * *

><p>She battled. She fought with her inner turmoil as she watched the beauty glide seamlessly across the stage. Her presence encapsulated the brunette in a way she never thought was humanly possible. Every fibre of her being was drawn to the blonde on the stage. Her mesmerising movements capturing Santana, like a hunter stalking it's prey. Only Brittany could not be further from a hunter. She simply twirled and tangoed, tantalising her audience without thought of the effects she had on people, particularly Santana. The dancer was in a domain of her own, the stage, her world for two hours almost every night. Not a single being could penetrate the bubble she found herself encompassed within. The look of concentration on her face was disguised by the actress' ability to immerse herself in the story. It was a tale of love and heartache. Brittany played the part of a woman falling in love, the possibilities of it being unrequited left her insecure. Appearing conflicted and uncertain, her characterisation was wholly believable and had Santana's heart aching for the blonde. The brunette followed the story as if she herself were on stage, feeling every spoken or sung word, every emotion and every step. It was a painting brought to life, the characters alive and moving like a paintbrush dancing across canvas, creating an image and a story more colourful than any other. It was certainly a feast for the eyes.<p>

Feeling an overwhelming urge, Brittany broke the habit of a lifetime and looked up, engaging with one particular member of the audience. Their eyes met as if for the first time, seeking one another with distinct, supernatural accuracy. With her heart aflutter, she used the new surge of energy to propel her through the performance. Captivated, Santana could not tear her eyes away from the woman she knew she was meant to be with. Brittany commanded the stage, she owned the production, the Latina could barely believe this was the same woman she had developed an affinity with. Gone was the ache in her heart, the pain in her hand, the throb in her head. Gone was the drama at work and the incident pre-show. All that existed was the blonde and the brunette, two opposites thrown together by a force greater than the universe. Their paths had been similar, leading to one road they were destined to travel together.

The show was over almost as soon as it had begun. Or so Santana thought. Following the encore and standing ovation, the brunette sunk back into her seat, bright brown eyes not wavering from the stage. Physically she was in the theatre, commotion and melee surrounding her as the other patrons rushed to leave, each attempting to beat the other to the exit doors and into the cool night air. Every muscle in Santana's being had her on lockdown. She could not move. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to because emotionally, she was still attached to the stage. The theatre had a hold over the brunette. But it wasn't the theatre, it was the magic she had witnessed within the four walls that had her entranced.

"Santana?" a gentle voice called her name. It sounded distant, though given her current state of mind, she was barely lucid, a mix of pain, medication and confusion the culprits. When there was no response, she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. She looked at it briefly, startling her out of the trance she found herself in. "San." She heard again. Her eyes travelled from the hand, along a slender arm, over strong, defined shoulders and lastly met with concerned crystal like blue eyes. "Hey," came the greeting with a small smile. Santana was visibly drained. Brittany could only imagine how the girl felt following such an eventful day. It was late, the brunette unsure how long she had sat there, not quite aware of when Kurt had left her side and Brittany appeared.

"Where's Kurt?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. Brittany cocked her head to the side slightly and stroked her hand over Santana's shoulder in comfort before running it through the long dark locks.

"He went ahead to the restaurant." she answered. She studied Santana's features, smiling slightly as the brunette closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Brittany's fingers dance through her hair. Brittany glanced around. The theatre was empty, save for one or two staff members milling around. "I'm worried about you." she said quietly to the other woman. Santana opened her eyes and met the concerned gaze of the blonde. Without a word, the brunette dropped her head onto the blonde's shoulder, tears forming in her eyes. She blinked, willing them to disappear, eventually closing her eyes to try and keep them in. Brittany wrapped an arm around the chef's shoulders, pulling her in closer, letting her know she was not alone. "Does your hand hurt?" she asked. The gentle movement of Santana's head against her neck indicated that yes, it was causing her pain.

"Everything hurts." she answered, a naked vulnerability emanated from the brunette. It was a side of the woman Brittany had never witnessed before; however, she was neither taken aback nor deterred by it. Her heart swell with empathy, she wanted to do nothing but comfort Santana in her time of need. "I'm so confused." she added. The blonde frowned, unsure of the statement and silently willed the other woman to continue, only to be met with more silence.

They sat there, in one another's arms for a short while, just content with being in each other's company, though neither sure how the next conversation would play out. To Brittany, Santana was obviously confused about something. The last interaction between the two had not quite gone according to plan. In fact, it should never have happened. Brittany felt a pang of guilt for what Santana had witnessed between herself and Mike, yet none of it was her doing. She found herself in a very uncomfortable, compromising position and Santana had accidentally happened upon them at that exact moment. The blonde twisted her lips at the irony; if fate did have a hand in bringing them together, it was certainly making a song and dance about it.

Brittany was content to just wait, to let Santana speak when she was ready and if it took all night, so be it. The Latina was worth the wait. Santana let out a hefty sigh and turned her head, looking up at the patient blonde, who ever so tenderly held her close. "I'm sorry." she croaked, her voice broken from the raw emotion emanating from her very soul. Brittany shook her head to disagree. Softly she reached up with her free hand and swept away the fallen strands of hair that partially covered the tan skin. "Can we leave?" Santana asked, suddenly aware of the public surroundings that all evening had appeared so private and intimate.

"Of course." the blonde replied. Santana's wish was Brittany's command. Helping the brunette to her feet, Brittany did what Brittany did best, she cared for Santana. Not overly so, she added the correct dosages of helpful, kind and caring without appearing smothering or overbearing. It simply was not in the dancer's nature to be so, and that was what set her apart from the rest.

Santana appreciated the efforts Brittany went to in order to make her feel relaxed. There was no better way to describe it. She had a knack for putting the brunette at ease in almost any situation. Almost. There was still one incident plaguing Santana's mind. But that was the thing, momentarily it was one, until it became another and then another, spiralling until her brain hurt from thinking too much. Nothing had ever seemed so complicated to the brunette. She was able to compartmentalise and organise her life accordingly, and then, along came Brittany. She was a Jackson Pollock painting personified. Such a beauty, yet she caused so much chaos and disorder within the chef. It didn't have to be this way, did it? Brittany appeared more like an Edward Hopper, what you see is what you get. No overly complicated expressions deviating from the piece, just simply defined. Right from the beginning Brittany had stirred emotions in Santana she had never felt before. She could not explain it. She truly adored the blonde for everything she was. Yet here she was, following an emotionally charged day, barely understanding her own name. It was like she had been picked up during a typhoon and placed in a foreign land. Was the Brittany she was clinging onto now different from the Brittany that had cradled her in the hospital bed? Everything about today seemed to turn her world on it's head.

xx

Brittany struggled to locate the keys to her apartment, having a very sleepy and drained brunette hanging from her did not help matters. Yet, she persevered, unlocking the door and helping Santana over the threshold. Placing the girl gently down on the couch, she immediately went to seek water, knowing Santana was in need of her pain medication. She also knew she was on a time limit. It was almost certain the brunette would succumb to sleep not long after taking her meds. "Hey." she said, sitting beside the Latina, the soft plump cushions devouring her. "Where are your meds?" she asked. Santana pointed toward the purse at her feet, at which Brittany reluctantly rummaged through until placing her hands on a small rectangular foil pack. "Take these." she ordered, holding a couple of pills and the glass of water out to the brunette. Santana complied, awkwardly taking the drink in her good hand, the pills one by one from Brittany's with the other. Her fingers grazed over the blonde's palm softly on each occasion. Brittany smiled at the innocent, yet intimate gesture and waited once again for Santana to take the conversational lead.

Santana struggled. She could see Brittany was waiting; the blonde had the patience of a saint, and goodness knew it would take a saintly figure to put up with Santana. Or so her mother often told her as a young rebellious teen. She smiled at the thought, maybe her mother had been right after all. Yet it was not something the brunette would admit to her any time soon. If ever. Brittany reacted to the smile with her own small grin having studied Santana's features closely, watching the performance of emotions flashing through her favourite pair of expressive eyes. She picked up the brunette's hand and stroked it encouragingly. "Are you trying to send me to sleep?" the weary woman asked lightly.

"No." Brittany admitted. "I'll miss those eyes of yours too much." she earned a shy blushing grin from the owner of said eyes. Santana steadied herself, studying the blonde beside her before continuing.

"You don't love him." Santana stated, causing the blonde to falter slightly in her ministrations. A statement she was not expecting; a question or accusation maybe. The chef was full of surprises.

"No." she answered, her voice penetrating the inner depths of Santana's soul, spiking the small bubble of personal trouble that hovered there. Santana nodded, satisfied with the answer, she continued to stare into the piercing baby blues.

"Which means, you're not going on tour." she concluded, earning a gentle nod from the blonde. The bubble deflated a little more. "What about the kiss?" she asked, her eyes hardening, the thought of someone else's lips upon the dancer's appalled her and to some extent intimidated her.

"Nothing." Brittany said sternly with the shake of her head. "He kissed me and it freaked me out." she admitted truthfully. Santana smirked upon hearing the words, It was like sweet music to her frail ears. At the same time, she felt a little ashamed interrogating the blonde, when really she had no claim over her.

"I'm sorry." she said immediately, without explanation, causing the blonde to frown with confusion. "I had no right to react the way I did." she admitted shamefully. Shaking her head, Brittany stopped stroking her fingers over the soft skin and held onto the hand tightly, pulling it impossibly further into her lap, her eyes never wavering from the brunette's.

"I'm pretty sure I would have reacted the same way." she admitted with a warm inviting smile. Santana responded with a matching grin, her heart feeling lighter with every spoken word. Yet there was still something. She dropped her eyes to their entwined hands in Brittany's lap. Bringing her legs up, she awkwardly sat on her knees and faced the blonde. Brittany's smile had faltered, unsure what was to come.

"Tonight," Santana began, "I think I fell in love." she confessed. Brittany's eyes widened at the admission. It was not quite what she was expecting and opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Santana held up her hand, "But I don't know who with." If the dancer wasn't confused before, then she more than certainly was now. Santana sighed having witnessed the change of emotion upon the blonde's porcelain features. "I mean," she began, another sigh indicated she was struggling, "this is so hard." the brunette said. Tears formed in her eyes with frustration and she swiped angrily at them with her bandaged hand, yelping slightly when she made contact with her face. Brittany furrowed her brow - further if it was even possible - feeling the hurt Santana was suffering. "Do you remember when you told me you liked me because to me you were just Brittany Pierce from Lima, Ohio?" the Latina asked having composed herself a little. Brittany smiled, squeezing the hand in her own at the fond memory. "Of course." she replied warmly. Santana smiled sadly and glanced at the ceiling, hoping to find some sort of inspiration there; however, all she received was a blinding spotlight, causing her to avert her gaze immediately.

"Britt, you were amazing tonight. I was mad at you but you blew me away, completely." Santana said with a new found confidence. "And that scares me because I don't know if I fell in love with you or your character. I don't know if I fell in love as Santana or as a fan. Or maybe it was just lust. I don't know, it just felt so powerful." she stated as simply as she could put it even while still trying to fathom the meaning in her own mind. "I mean," she continued, looking at Brittany. The blonde wore a blank expression, so she tried to further explain, "you were so good and I was so involved in the story and I felt everything your character felt and you have this way of conjuring these feelings for your character, but it was still you, I could see you, but it wasn't you." Brittany began nodding her head slowly. "But you said you like me because I see you. Just you. And now I'm confused because I have all of these feelings. Today I had so many different feelings that you gave me and I don't know where one ends and the other begins."

"Ok." the dancer replied. "Forget today, or don't forget today."

"Not helping." Santana said with a wry smile. The blonde smiled softly.

"Why don't we start from the beginning." Brittany offered with a shrug. Santana nodded in affirmation, followed by a gigantic yawn. "Or you could just go to bed?" the blonde suggested.

"I don't talk much about feelings Britt." Santana revealed, "I think it's a case of now or never, before I lose my nerve." she said honestly. "Tell me how _you_ feel." the brunette requested carefully. Brittany smiled broadly, revealing her pearly white teeth, and brought their entwined hands up to her chest and placed them over her heart. "Please." Santana added, feeling the beat of the blonde's heart beneath her hand.

"I really, really like you. Like more than a best friend like you." she said excitedly. "I wake up and I wonder where you are and what you're doing and all through the day too. It's like I can't stop thinking about you." Santana smiled at the blonde's words. When Brittany said it, it seemed so uncomplicated. Why did she have to turn everything into a conundrum? "And I just want to see you and hear your voice like all of the time. I miss you when we're not together." she concluded, bringing their hands higher. She placed her lips on the back of Santana's hand, her eyes never leaving the swooning depths of the Latina's beautiful brown orbs.

"Me too." Santana stated. "I knew I wanted more after your amazing city tour." she grinned. "And you," she said accusingly, pointing a finger and prodding the blonde in the ribs, "go and say something stupid and get me injured." Santana smirked, her tone light, as to not intimidate her companion. "But you took care of me. You showed me what it was like to be able to rely on someone and that was both liberating and scary." Brittany remained quiet, not wanting the brunette to stop and bring down the shutters. "And then I saw you with what's his name and it was the perfect excuse to freak out." she explained. Scrunching her eyes closed, Santana took a deep breath, encouraging herself to continue along the honesty path, "I was angry with you, and him, and myself." she said. Her teeth gritted slightly as she relived the emotions, feeling them pass through her body. "And damn Kurt, my apparent fairy god father, forced me to stay and watch." She chanced a look at the blonde. Her eyes were focused on Santana, each word being absorbed like a sponge. "You go and do that, be the perfect performer, the most incredible dancer I've ever seen and it confuses the hell out of me." Santana concluded. She flopped backwards, her back hitting the cushions softly, "I didn't know whether to love you or hate you."

"Please don't hate me." Brittany said sadly, inching closer to the brunette, "I would never intentionally hurt you." she said. "I cried when I got to the theatre because I did that." Brittany pointed to the bandage on Santana's injured hand. The chef smiled and engulfed Brittany into a tight hug.

"You didn't do that." Santana cooed into the blonde's ear, "It was an accident." she said. "And if it hadn't have happened, I wouldn't have known what it was like to wake up in your arms."

"So soon." Brittany added. Santana pulled away slightly, confused by the words. Brittany shrugged, "It would have happened eventually." she smiled. The Latina laughed heartily, admiring the dancer's confidence. Once her giggles subsided, she yawned again. "Forget about the show." Brittany stated, reverting back to the conversation at hand. "Forget about Mike." Santana winced at the sound of the dancer's name. "You're a wonderful chef Santana, but it's not your food I want to spend time with." Brittany hoped that would help the brunette straighten a few things out in her head. Watching the other woman think about her words, brought a sense of accomplishment to the young Broadway star. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just want to be with you." Santana stated simply. "I felt like we were stuck before today, like were just only ever going to be just friends and I wanted more than that. But I was afraid you didn't feel the same."

"You had me at 'err yeah'." Brittany replied, causing the brunette to form another frown line upon her complexion. "They were the first words you said to me." she elaborated. Realisation dawned on the chef. It had been her reply to the blonde's 'Long day?'. The memories came flooding back. Despite her tired and dishevelled appearance, Brittany had wanted to talk to her regardless and to Santana, anyone who could bear her company after such a long hard working day deserved the highest reward.

They gazed at one another for what seemed like an age, conveying all feeling through silent communication. Brittany remained motionless, Santana held all the cards, it was her evening. The brunette thought endlessly about the words exchanged that night. Ever so slowly she gravitated towards the blonde. Her eyes flickered briefly to her intended destination, Brittany's pearlescent lips gleaming in wait and want. As Santana drew closer, their eye lids fluttered shut simultaneously, the anticipation was agonising until their lips finally met in a crescendo of emotions. Weeks of built up tension and longing was released in the kiss. Santana's lips stroked Brittany's with such sweet tenderness and love, conveying each emotion she harboured in her heart. The Latina raised her hand and softly stroked the blushed cheek of her partner's face whilst gently using her tongue to lever Brittany's smooth lips apart. Entwined, their tongues began a slow private dance, full of passion and promise. There was nothing urgent about the contact, it was relaxed as if they had all the time in the world, enjoying the feel of one another. Slowly and reluctantly they pulled apart, opening their eyes, refocusing on each other. Broad, giddy smiles were plastered across both their flush faces.

Sweeping the blonde up in a hug once again, Santana clung on for dear life, afraid that if she let go she would become lost. For once, outside of the kitchen and in the realm of real life, she felt like she was where she belonged, safe and entwined in Brittany's arms.

xx

Laying in bed with Santana cuddled into her side, Brittany pondered the extraordinary day she had endured. There was nowhere else she would rather be. Having worn one another out with revealing heartfelt conversation, Brittany as observant and thoughtful as ever, was concerned over the Latina's wellbeing. She took control and decided further discussions could wait. Santana yawned loudly again. Her eyelids were growing heavy and she was fighting to stay awake. The pain meds had kicked in and had a strangle hold over her, pushing her further and further into a state of wanton sleep. Brittany looked down at Santana's weary body adoringly and could see the girl barely had anything left to give today. Santana literally had thrown everything she had left into the talk with Brittany. Following a physically demanding day, the brunette had laid out her soul, explaining to the dancer everything she had been feeling. It was exhilarating. It was exhausting. But ultimately, it was a talk that had needed to happen to propel them forward. If today had proved anything, it was that both longed for something beyond the friendship they had forged. Even in the dark room, their future looked bright.


	7. New Beginning

A/N: Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate every single word. It inspires me to write and to be better and I hope the next chapter is a big enough thank you to every reader.

A/N2: (because one isn't enough!) To my beta lizzylizbian, because she's simply amazing, never complains, is so quick and always delivers.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 – New Beginning<p>

**New**

Startled, she awoke in a foreign place. The soft pink cotton bed sheets, the magnolia walls, the flowery curtains, it was all . . . different. Santana squeezed her eyes shut having exposing them to light far too quickly, the pounding in her head suggested she had in fact put her brain through some sort of trauma, but was almost positive alcohol was not involved. Turning, she bumped something, or someone; gently prying open her eyes, she was met with a familiar streak of golden locks. A momentary frown quickly turned into a tooth bearing grin as she came to the realisation she was in Brittany's bed. Brittany, the one person she had dreamt of having this very moment with. Reaching out tentatively, she ran her fingers through the silken hair and sighed contentedly when the blonde stretched out to hug her. Santana pulled the dancer closer to her body, thankful for the way Brittany had cared for her the previous day. "Thank you, Britt Britt." She said quietly, her hand still gliding through blonde hair. She felt at ease, happy even, more so than she had when she was home in Los Angeles. New York had been different, an upheaval, but worth it in order to pursue her dream of climbing the career ladder. Brittany had been the first and only person to take an active interest in Santana the civilian, the person, the human being, instead of the talented and highly rated chef. However, the Latina had little time to socialise outside of the restaurant. The blonde cuddled up in her arms was her saviour in so many ways.

With a big sigh, she contemplated what the day would bring. They had talked late into the night, and the only real thing she learnt was how Brittany felt the same for her as she did for the dancer. It was progress. She could not help feel a little guilty for holding them both back in the pursuit of a relationship. But it was still early. It was all very new. They had been friends for barely a few months, making the transition to lovers may require some adjustment and a little time. However, right now, she was content to just lay there, enjoying the steady rise and fall of Brittany's chest against her body and the tickle of her breath against her neck. She closed her eyes again, her hand never leaving the soft muss of hair. It was new. This whole feeling of belonging, of being able to open up wholly and not have any negative repercussions. Santana had never been able to handle her own heart. Giving it to someone else was something she never thought possible. Yet with Brittany, she was learning to accept that she had a lot of love to give, and that keeping it bottled up and locked away was unhealthy. No one had ever given Santana a reason to trust, until Brittany. She was different, wholesome, a breath of fresh air. But most of all, she truly cared for Santana. Brittany didn't want to be with the chef because of her looks or to gain social standing or to eat fancy food whenever she felt like it.

Santana Lopez was a human being, just like everybody else. The innate craving for love and feeling wanted was as prevalent in Santana as anyone. Yet through nurture and uncontrollable actions of other people, she was terribly protective of herself and afraid to let herself love and be loved. However, Brittany was new; her ideals and personality were fresh which is what Santana found so endearing and attractive about the blonde. It was also what scared her.

**Beginning**

She was gently coaxed into a state of awareness as she felt gentle fingers threading through her hair, occasionally grazing her scalp causing her heart to flutter. Already conscious of her bedmate, she reached out and snuggled closer to the Latina. Santana was comfortable, more so than a pillow or cushion. She radiated warmth and safety, something Brittany felt she had been missing for so long. The chef had easily made an impression on the blonde. They had become friends with little effort and it would have taken all the will in the world for Brittany not to develop romantic feeling for the other woman. She encapsulated her like no one ever had before. The time she spent with Santana had always left her wanting more. The woman was full of intrigue and mystery, always holding back that little bit. Undeterred, Brittany had put her plan into action. Dropping casual and occasional hints, cranking up the level of flirting, and to ram the message home, she tried being overtly bold. They had been at a stalemate for several weeks, wanting more but reluctant to take a step forward. Brittany was used to being the one that was pursued, with her outgoing and friendly nature, she had an overwhelming number of offers; however, she always brushed them off. Although the dancer was often oblivious to the attention she garnered and would waltz through life picking up the odd date here and there, fleeting relationships lasting no greater than several months. She found herself never really settling down due to her passion for dancing, her drive within her career and the constant moving around. Brittany had been in one serious relationship that lasted through the latter years of high school and suffered at the hands of a long distance relationship when college and dancing separated the young lovers. Eventually the romance ran its course. The two drifting apart after a year, both figuratively and literally. The mutual decision was welcomed and the blonde was able to move on with her life. However, her mother, Valerie, was rather attached to Daniel.

Brittany snuggled closer to Santana. The Latina had laid her heart on the line the previous evening, it was a conversation the blonde had never expected to have, yet she was grateful Santana trusted her enough to share it. Being an extremely guarded person, the dancer was aware at how difficult it was for Santana to bare her soul in such a raw and emotional way. Granted, it had been the result of an unfortunate set of circumstances, but it was that bad luck that propelled them forward. Enjoying the feel of the soft fingers through her hair, Brittany further stirred, her body and mind awakening, finally ready to face the world, the day, with the girl in her bed whom she had grown so fond of. This was just the beginning. Brittany could barely contain her excitement as she lifted her head, stilling Santana's motions, and greeted her bedmate with a sweet, brief kiss on the lips.

"G'morning beautiful." she slurred, drunk on happiness.

...

Santana smiled shyly as the words of endearment danced over her ears. She was content to just lay and stare into sparkling blue eyes. Brittany was happy, and the brunette knew that she was the cause of that happiness. It made her blush furiously, and she mentally chastised herself for being so over emotional. Last night had been exhausting - mentally draining, as she had exposed herself to Brittany, showing her fears and vulnerability. Yet the blonde was still there. She had woken up to the most beautiful girl she had ever laid eyes upon. Dreams were made of this. With slight trepidation she leaned closer to the other woman, her eyes never wavering from Brittany's as she gently captured her lips. It was sweet, tender and full of promise. Gently pulling away, she buried her head into Brittany's neck and hugged her waist furiously, hoping with all might her gratitude was conveyed.

"Morning." she replied with a coy grin. Mimicking Santana's earlier motions, Brittany began to thread her fingers through Santana's hair. "It's a beautiful day." the brunette stated with a breathy sigh. The dancer frowned slightly, her eyes travelling to the curtains, unaware of what the world looked like outside her window. Brittany decided that it did not matter what was happening beyond the brick, mortar and glass; she had everything she needed right there, laying in her arms.

"How do you know?" she asked quietly.

"Because I woke up to you and I get to do this." Santana shifted and raised her head, planting a lazy kiss on the blonde's soft, inviting lips. Brittany smiled as the Latina pulled away. Fingers softly danced across the blonde's slightly exposed stomach, releasing a magnitude of butterflies within the dancer. Her breath hitched and she caught the amused expression in the humoured brown eyes before her.

"I could get used to this." Brittany revealed with a smirk, her confidence returning following a minor falter. Santana continued with her ministrations, enjoying the feel of Brittany's soft skin beneath the pads of her fingers. The dancer froze momentarily as she felt the rough bandaged material of the injured hand. "Your hand." Brittany stated. "How's your hand?" she asked with gentle concern. Santana shrugged. "San?" Brittany said with stern warning.

"Hurts a little, but it's ok." the chef replied after a beat. Stubborn as ever. The blonde shifted to get up; however, she found herself pinned to the bed. "Stay." husked the brunette, her voice shattering any coherent thought Brittany had. Santana's eyelids grew heavy the longer she stared into the hypnotising ocean blue orbs of the blonde. Taking charge once again, she leaned in, her lips naturally gravitating towards Brittany's. It had been a long time since Santana had felt anything near the elation that consumed her in the presence of this incredible being, and now all feelings were finally out in the open. She could not help but take advantage of that. Brittany returned the kiss with gusto, a vigour that the brunette never knew existed within the other girl.

Santana fought to gain control, her own velvet tongue stroking Brittany's, fighting for dominance. Brittany twisted slightly. She pinned Santana to the mattress beneath her, her body half covering the brunette's. The kiss deepened, causing both women to moan into the other's mouth. The moment heated up when Brittany straddled her bed partner. The dancer's hands idly played with the loose raven locks, her breasts pushing roughly against Santana's, whilst the friction between their t-shirts caused the fabric to rise. Giving in, Brittany laid back down on the beautiful brunette below her, causing Santana to moan with pure pleasure as she felt the skin of the blonde's taut stomach move against her own.

The dancer placed a hand on Santana's smooth stomach whilst continuing her assault on the brunette's mouth. Brittany's hand slowly inched up the chef's torso as Santana's wrapped tightly around the blonde, holding her as close as possible. Gone were the fears from the previous night. And gone was any trepidation Santana felt. Opening her heart had never felt so liberating and trusting Brittany had proved easier than she ever thought. She was lost in the moment with her head firmly in the clouds. Brittany's tongue was dancing, swirling and stroking, claiming Santana's mouth as her own. She felt the blonde's fingers brush against her breast. The dancer slowly broke away, kissing Santana's jaw line allowing her to breath for what felt like the first time. The Latina gasped as Brittany's lips, tongue and teeth continued to attack her skin - her neck the object of the blonde's assault. The chef was almost disbelieving of reality. It was like a dream and all too cautiously she looked down at the blonde, aware she had fantasised about a moment like this many a time. She was brought to her senses by an incessant beeping. Afraid she had indeed been dreaming, she painfully opened her eyes. The blonde was still wrapped around her seemingly lost in the moment, enjoying the feel of Santana beneath her weight. The alarm was now blaring, clearly indicating Brittany was usually a deep sleeper for it only became louder. "Britt." Santana breathed into the ear that hovered near her lips. "Britt." she rasped louder, this time gaining the blonde's attention. Brittany looked up at the brunette, her lips swollen from her oral assault on the Latina, her hair mussed and wild, eyes as bright as stars. Santana's breath hitched. The dancer looked incredibly sexy and wanted nothing more than to ravish her. "Alarm." Santana choked out.

"Huh?" Brittany breathed, still in a Santana fuelled haze, oblivious to the fact she had forgotten to re-set the thing with a new time the previous night.

"Alarm, your alarm." Santana explained with little wording, unable to formulate a sentence. The dancer's body was warm against her own, the gentle pressure of her weight felt like it belonged. Smiling sheepishly with guilt and apology, Brittany leaned the whole way across the bed and swiped her hand over the clock relaxing immediately and landing upon the brunette, their faces millimetres apart. "Hey." Santana said with a sweet smile.

"Hey yourself." Brittany replied, brushing loose strands of the Latina's hair from her face. "I guess I forgot it was set." Brittany closed the gap again, her lips skimming across Santana's with a ghost of a kiss, leaving the brunette wanting more. The blonde smirked as Santana flipped her, reversing their positions. The blonde's back collided with a soft bounce upon the mattress and she hissed as Santana's knee inadvertently hit her centre. Almost simultaneously, Santana cried out.

"Fuck Brittany!" she all but yelled. The blonde's immediate reaction was to smirk with pride.

"I didn't even do anything yet." Brittany replied.

"Britt, move." Santana ordered, panic evident in her voice. The dancer's eyes widened with worry, noticing the contorted pain on the brunette's features. "Get up." Santana tried again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. The blonde wriggled, causing the brunette to yelp. "My hand." Santana cried weakly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." she chanted. Brittany jumped up as quickly as humanly possible, not wanting to cause her friend further pain. Kneeling on the bed beside Santana, she looked at the space she had recently occupied, seeing the injured hand laying motionless against the sheets. The dancer's heart plummeted at the realisation she had again caused the brunette physical pain. She turned her attention to Santana whose eyes were closed, teeth gritted together, pain etched on her face.

"San." Brittany said moving closer to the other girl. "I'm so sorry." she could feel the tears in her own eyes threatening to spill.

"It's ok." Santana gasped. "I'm ok." she reassured gingerly opening her eyes with a tight smile. Seeing the worry and guilt clouding Brittany's face, she reached up with her good hand, her fingers tracing over the soft warm skin. "It was an accident."

"But," began the blonde. Santana cut her off with a swift kiss.

"No buts." the Latina ordered, her breathing slowly returning to normal. "Can you get my meds please?" she asked gingerly.

"Of course." Brittany replied and hurried off the bed, disappearing from the room.

Santana lay on her back, her eyes tracing the faint pattern on the ceiling, willing the pain to dissipate. The initial shot of hurt through her whole body was a tremendous shock, the pressure of both Brittany's and her own weight upon the injury was too much and consequently she suffered. Ever so carefully, Santana picked up her injured hand and placed it on her stomach.

The feelings she was experiencing now were a far cry from the ones mere minutes ago, with Brittany on top of her, pleasing her every last nerve with the gentle touch of her fingers and her tongue, uniting them both like they never had before. She knew they could have something special. The way they had formed a bond with each other, like with no one else she had before. It was instant, the blonde had intrigued her, and even though she felt an affinity for Quinn, that quickly fizzled out the more time she spent with either of them. It was Brittany she felt more akin to. It was Brittany who was always at the forefront of her mind, during her waking day and gracing her nightly dreams. It had been a blessing that they developed a relationship as friends first. Both being new to the big city, progressing careers, travelling pasts, they had a lot in common. Add to the fact they both felt so at ease in each other's company, it was no great surprise they developed a sexual chemistry with one another. Santana sighed. Whilst so far their budding romance had been calamitous, she would not have changed it for the world. She wanted to take it slowly, build a steady, solid and albeit lasting relationship with Brittany. She had learnt to trust her, even after having been hurt and mistrusting in the past. She had met and dated other woman, but her commitment and trust issues had been major factors in communication and relationship breakdowns. The move from Los Angeles to New York was an opportunity for Santana to start again, begin her life anew. She was determined to remain focused on her career, to be the best chef she could be. Little did she know that on her opening night she would meet someone who would teach her the true meaning of a new beginning.

xx

Having made the journey across town to her apartment, the Latina quickly changed, stubbornly declining Brittany's assistance, "I promise I won't look." came the assurance from the blonde. "I can manage." was the reply from the patient. The result was mismatched buttons in the wrong holes on the brunette's shirt. Brittany gazed at her adoringly as Santana struggled with the arms of her blazer. "I can manage." Santana repeated upon witnessing the dancer's raised eyebrows. Brittany pointed to the shirt, "Your buttons." she said, smirking at a pouting brunette. "Let me." reluctantly, Santana accepted.

They now found themselves in Empire State of Mind, where it had all begun, enjoying a light brunch before Brittany had to depart for the theatre for a matinee performance. Enjoying each other's company, the two spoke quietly, sometimes laughing and stealing the occasional touch. To the outside world, they were two good friends catching up over a meal. To them, this was another treasured moment, their first real date as Brittany had insisted on calling it, an attempt to make up for causing the brunette so much physical and emotional agony over the past few days. Santana could not say no to the blonde, despite her resolute stance that the dancer was not at fault.

"Last night," Brittany began, Santana placed her fork down on the plate and picked up the glass of juice, taking a sip, wondering where this new topic of conversation was headed. "was crazy right?" the blonde asked. Santana nodded mutely encouraging Brittany to continue. "Crazy good." She emphasised, "But, we haven't talked about it yet." Brittany said. Santana sighed, knowing they would have to have a talk about the talk at some point.

"You don't think we talked enough last night?" the chef asked defensively, sitting back in her chair.

"I think," Brittany took a moment and chewed her lip whilst thinking carefully about her words, "that, we made a lot of progress last night and I wouldn't change that." she answered. "Right now, I know we like each other a lot and I don't know much else." she explained.

"What do you mean?" Santana asked, her eyes narrowing. "We're dating right?" she asked nervously.

"Yeah." Brittany replied breezily, her hand reaching out to take Santana's in her own. "Are we together, like exclusive? Because what you said last night makes me think we are, but I'm not sure." she asked. Santana smiled, leaning forward she squeezed Brittany's warm hand.

"I don't want to be with anyone but you Brittany. I want to be with Brittany from Lima, Ohio who just so happens to be this amazing dancer and performer" Santana replied, earning a dazzling grin from her girl. "I meant it when I said that I just want to be with you." she stated.

"But slow right?" the blonde asked, seeking confirmation. She was aware of the brunette's fears and insecurities.

"Slow." Santana repeated, "I need to learn how to love again and so far," she paused, gazing into Brittany's captivating eyes, "you're an excellent teacher." she smiled shyly. If it was possible, Brittany's blue orbs sparkled even brighter. Santana had never come across a more expressive pair of eyes than the blonde's, but then, rarely had she the inclination to become lost in a pair of eyes like she did now.

"Ahem." came the clearing of a throat beside them. Santana chanced a glance up, a threatening scowl adorning her features in an attempt to ward off their intruder. "Not going to work on me honey." came the response.

"You're kind of interrupting Kurt." Santana spat. The Matre D cocked his head to the side.

"Oh really?" he asked, pulling up a seat beside the two women. Santana stared at him incredulously and Brittany laughed at the interaction. "I take it you two sorted out your little problem?" he asked, before either could answer, he spoke again, "Where did you get to last night? You left me hanging." he accused.

"Sorry Kurt, I," Began the blonde, Santana held up a hand to stop her.

"No Britt." she stated, then turned her attention to her colleague. "I had some things I needed to work out, I thought you'd understand." Santana replied.

"Of course." Kurt said, "I'm just messing with you. Looks like it went well?" he enquired.

"Kurt?" Santana said, pulling the napkin from her lap and placing it on the table, "I'm in a better place than I was yesterday and that's all you need to know." she said with an air of mysticism. The aspiring star rose to his feet dramatically.

"Oh you're no fun." he answered and spun on his heel, making a beeline to the front door. Santana turned her attention back to Brittany who was looking at her questioningly.

"I'll tell him, just, let me enjoy having you to myself for a bit first." she smiled, knowing how interfering the guy could be. "Is this ok?" she asked suddenly, causing the dancer to frown.

"What do you mean?" asked Brittany.

"When it comes out that we're together, what impact will it have on your career?" she asked with concern.

"San, half the people in this business are gay." she laughed before casually taking a strawberry and popping it into her mouth.

"Isn't that a slight exaggeration?" the Latina asked suspiciously. Brittany shrugged in response.

"You worry too much." The dancer stated nonchalantly, she leant across the table, placing a swift, sweet kiss on Santana's cheek, followed by a reassuring wink.

"I knew it!" came a shriek from across the restaurant. Santana rolled her eyes at the second interruption from Kurt. It had been such an innocent act on the blonde's part. With a sigh, the brunette returned her full attention to the woman before her and watched Brittany carefully. The blonde was right; she really did worry too much. Being with such a carefree person was going to be an education. She smiled, hoping the blonde's relaxed attitude would eventually influence herself. She nodded her head slowly, conceding that Brittany knew what she was doing and she should trust her.

"But there's something you should know." Brittany blurted. Santana sat with wide eyes, unsure if she was going to like the next words to leave the blonde's mouth. "It's Easter next week." she stated. Santana frowned before raising an eyebrow. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned closer to her companion.

"I am aware of that." the brunette confirmed with a nod.

"My folks will be in town." continued the dancer, this time picking up the remainder of her coffee and downing the tepid brown liquid. She snarled in response, disappointed she had let it cool. Looking up, she tried to gage Santana's reaction.

"Ok."

"And it's my birthday. Same as Jesus." she smiled triumphantly. Santana did a double take, unsure if she had heard the blonde correctly. Her mouth opened to speak but no words were emitted. "And the Easter Bunny." Brittany confirmed with a nod.

"You're too cute." Santana breathed with a chuckle, "But Britt, Jesus' birthday is at Christmas."

"Oh I know." she replied with a shrug, "Easter's like his second birthday, he rose again. You know, that's like being born again right?" Santana was dumbfounded, she found herself nodding involuntarily in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess." The chef sat in silence for a short while, trying to absorb the mountain of information that she had just been bombarded with, trying to pick out the significant details. "It's your birthday next week."

"Uh-huh."

"And your parents are in town."

"That's right." Brittany replied, "But you don't have to meet them, I mean I understand if it's too soon."

"Are you asking me to meet your parents?" Santana asked, confused. She lay her arms down on the table, her thumbs idly twirling around one another.

"We're having dinner on Sunday for my birthday and I'd love for you to be there, but if you can't handle it, I understand." Brittany replied, stilling Santana's hands with one of her own placed over the top. Her eyes conveyed a world of adoration and understanding. Ultimately, she knew they were in the very early stages of their relationship, and only wanted for the brunette to be comfortable. The blonde watched as the cogs turned in Santana's head, a magnitude of thoughts barraging through. It was lucky the blonde was patient. Santana voicing her inner emotions was not an instant process.

"How long have we known each other?" The brunette finally spoke, the question throwing the dancer off guard. Brittany opened the palm of her free hand and started counting down with her fingers, mouthing the words as she did so. She paused, looking at her hand. With resolution she looked up to the brunette with her answer.

"About four months." she replied. Santana nodded with an adoring smile.

"Friends meet parents all the time right?" the brunette asked, earning a nod from the blonde. "Then it's ok. We were friends first. I can deal with it." Brittany eyed her with scepticism. "I'll learn to deal with it." Santana corrected with a small smile.

...

The girls were stood at the bar having paid their food bill, chatting animatedly with Santana's colleagues. The chef leant against the wood, head propped up on her good hand, smiling wistfully as she gazed at the adorable blonde. Her smouldering eyes raked the length of the dancer's body, from the tips of her leather boot clad toes, up the denim legs that seemed to go on forever, over the loose fitting Tinkerbelle sweater, up to the cascades of blonde silken locks. The sparkle in Brittany's eyes when she laughed, oh that musical sound; Santana was in a daze, enjoying the show that was Brittany.

"You seem happy." the voice caressed her ear out of nowhere, shaking her from her thoughts. Santana turned to see Quinn leaning over the bar from the other side, her eyes twinkling with mischief, causing the chef to blush. She straightened, briefly stretching out the kinks in her back. She was unable to prevent the grin that spread across her face.

"I am." she stated with simplicity.

"Good." Quinn replied with an honest smile. "How long are you out of action?" she asked, eliciting a blush from the Latina, realising the underlying meaning of her words. Widening her eyes to comic proportions, the blonde back peddled quickly. "Out of the kitchen. I meant how long will you be away from work?" she said clearing her throat in an effort to compose herself. Santana shrugged. An air of confidence radiated from her and she cocked her head to the side, deciding to have a little fun with the restaurant manager.

"You know my girl is banging hot." she said, "It's going to be hard keeping my hands off her." Santana smirked as she watched a blush creep up Quinn's neck and into her cheeks. "Although it didn't stop us this morning . . ." she trailed off.

"Actually it did San," Brittany chimed in. Santana rolled her eyes again, disappointed with the dancer for ending her brief reign of terror on her colleague.

"It's a good job you're adorable." Santana swooned, leaning into the blonde and resting her head upon the taller girl's shoulder. Brittany wrapped her arm around the Latina, hugging her closely and placed a protective kiss atop Santana's head.

"Really guys, how can you go from sexy to cute in milliseconds?" Kurt asked, now standing beside his manager who spared a sideways glance. Santana's head sprung up, eyes bulging with disbelief.

"That's how we roll." Brittany answered monotone with a trademark shrug. She caught Santana's expression and continued, "And you're not allowed to call Santana cute." she replied, earning a warm smile from her companion, "She'll totally go badass on you."

"So is it official, are you guys together? Because you're totally behaving like a couple, not that you didn't before, because you did, but it's just, well, you're more handsy and intimate than before."

"Really Berry? Who invited you into this private conversation?" Santana asked.

"I was your waitress and I've been standing here the whole time." she argued.

"Then maybe you should hurry along and do what you're paid to." the Latina chastised condescendingly. The petite brunette dropped her head and began to skulk away, however, Brittany stopped her by placing a hand on her arm.

"Rachel?" the performer said, Rachel's eyes lit up like Times Square upon hearing the Broadway Star address by her first name. "I'm sorry about Santana." the blonde turned and glared at her girlfriend, earning a confused, questioning look, "I think she's horny." Santana's eyes bulged in sheer disbelief.

"Britt." she sighed with exasperation, "too much!" the chef warned. Her voice an octave higher than usual. Several pairs of embarrassed eyes diverted away from the new couple. "Stop being so, so, honest." Santana said quietly. "And cute and hot." she added with a mutter, catching the smirk that appeared on Brittany's face, matching the humour and intrigue in the bright blue eyes before her. "We need to go." Santana announced loudly, needing to get away from her work place. "Quinn, I'll be back midweek, light duties. Finn can handle it all. He's proved he is more than capable."

"He'll be happy to hear that Santana." Quinn answered with a genuine smile.

"I mean it, you guys are great, I love working with you guys." Santana admitted. There were a few confused expressions and questioning looks as the unusual words left the notorious stoic chef's mouth. "Britt, you ready to go?" she took a hold of the blonde's hand as the two said their goodbye's and approached the exit. Upon disappearing through the glass doors, Quinn turned to Kurt, a look of puzzlement remained.

"What sort of magical power does Brittany hold?" she asked.

"Hmm, I'm not sure, but she's tamed the lion." he replied.

"A new Santana Lopez." Quinn stated. She looked at Kurt who returned her gaze.

"I like it." they both said in unison before bursting with laughter.

xx

It had started whilst they were in the safe confines of the restaurant, cocooned within the four walls. Santana stood huddled under the canopy with Brittany, daring to step out into the heavily cascading water. It was about two blocks to the theatre where Brittany had a matinee performance. Traffic was gridlock and their only option was to make a dart for it in the torrential rain. Preparing themselves, as if for an Olympic long distance run, they spared one last glance at each other before dashing along the sidewalk. Hand in hand, they dodged obstacles in human, dog and inanimate form. The occasional squeal emanated from the blonde when she received an unwelcome dose of splash back. Santana was focused, the route mapped out in her mind, determination set on her features, her brow furrowed in concentration. Objective: to get girlfriend to theatre quickly, but safely. Rain was just another of those obstacles that could be overcome. One more corner turned and Santana had her sights on the stage door at the side of the building. Both bodies ground to a halt as they reached the door, hearts pounding, breaths heavy and uneven. Santana stood hunched, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Noticing Brittany making no attempt to move, she straightened, her eyes questioning and gazing at the mischievous ocean blue depths facing her.

"Britt, open the door." she breathed hurriedly.

"No." Brittany stated, a small smirk playing at her lips, she started to twist her upper body back and forth, imitating a young girl in a candy store.

"What? Britt it's pouring with rain, open the door!" demanded the chef, the rain having drenched her once perfect locks which were now plastered and flat against her head.

"Kiss me." the blonde stated, her young face appeared fresh and innocent, wet strands of hair framed her natural beauty. Santana felt the world shrink away from around her, sirens silenced, the hustle calmed, the rain just a mere prop in the romantic story that was unfolding before her. She gazed longingly into the stark confident eyes of the dancer, that were the bluest she had ever seen them. Unable to resist and not having to be asked twice, she stepped forward unabashedly, claiming Brittany's lips with her own. Brittany's arms immediately snaked around the brunette's lithe waist, whilst Santana's hands found refuge on the blonde's shoulders, wet ringlets of hair tickled the backs of her hands. The chef sighed heavily with content, taking in as much of her companion as possible, allowing Brittany to seek entrance to her mouth with her warm, probing tongue. Returning the compliment, Santana massaged the blonde's tongue with her own, both enduring a playful dual. Moving her hands to gently cup Brittany's face. Eyelids remained heavy with desire and lips remained puckered with longing, until they slowly parted seeking breath. Still within each other's breathing space, the blonde gently rested her forehead against Santana's and her hands remained clasped at the small of the Latina's back. "I always wanted to kiss in the rain." she stated, so simply. Santana opened her eyes, witness to the sweetest smile playing upon the dancer's features. She could not possibly think of a moment in her life that felt so right, so compelling, so exciting and so peaceful all at once. It was exhilarating. Leaning in, she placed a quick kiss to Brittany's lips before pulling back entirely. Clasping her good hand into the blonde's, she smiled broadly, the dimples Brittany loved so much indicating the Latina was thrilled. Scrunching her nose at the cuteness, the dancer tugged Santana closer to the door. "That was totally worth getting wet for." she stated with innocence. Santana smirked at the unintentional innuendo before Brittany continued. "Now I'll open the door." she said, pulling it wide and allowing her girlfriend to be swallowed by the darkness first, her hand not once loosening its grip on the other woman.

xx

She did not battle. She did not fight with her inner turmoil as she watched the beauty glide seamlessly across the stage. It was different. Less than twenty four hours ago she was so consumed by her emotions, it hurt her head, it hurt her heart. The fog had lifted and this time, upon watching Brittany on the stage, her feelings for the dancer were clear. Brittany was her girl and was on stage doing her job, drawing in the audience and creating another world for a couple of hours. Santana smiled as she took in her surroundings. She was watching the show from the side of the stage, surrounded by the melee of backstage theatre. People were dashing from one place to another, costume changes were in abundance and dancers stretched and warmed up before taking to the stage. The blonde was nearing the end of the show and Santana was aware she would be exiting the stage very shortly. Just then a gush of cool wind rushed passed her, caused by the tens of dancers rushing towards the stage. The brunette closed her eyes until she was engulfed in the warmth of the theatre lights. Opening her eyes, she almost melted when she was met with heart warming, gentle blue rays of light. "Hey." Brittany whispered, taking Santana's hands in her own. "I have to go back out for the encore." she stated, earning a sweet smile and a nod from the brunette.

"I know."

"You're not going anywhere?" the blonde asked, like every other time she had during the show when she was about to re-enter the stage. This time the chef shook her head.

"Never." she confirmed communicating from her heart through her shining brown orbs. It was enough for the dancer who beamed before she turned and skipped back onto the stage.

As Brittany belted out the encore with her co-star Will Schuester, Santana watched in awe and wonderment, recognising the talent the dancer oozed. She understood the attention Brittany had garnered, why Rachel Berry was insistent on singing the dancer's praises. A sense of pride washed over the Latina, she stood tall, absorbing the atmosphere of the theatre. Just as Brittany found herself absorbed in her own world whilst on stage, Santana was also entranced. Her sole focus was the blonde. As the music drew to an end, the audience erupted. The heavy crimson velvet curtain dropped and Santana's heart swelled as she heard the cheers and whoops and shouts of Brittany's name. Feeling a presence beside her, she looked up, recognising the blonde's co-star, Noah Puckerman.

"She's great isn't she?" he asked with a sly smirk, grinning further when Santana nodded with a shy smile. "They all love her." he said. Leaning closer he spoke quietly as Santana watched Brittany slowly approach her. "But it only takes one to win her heart." snapping her head sideways, the tall, dark performer had disappeared into the shadows. The brunette returned her focus to the blonde waltzing towards her. She was beautiful. She stole Santana's breath, her heart restricting in her chest at the very sight of the other woman. Butterflies swarmed her stomach. Her knees weakened and hands shook. She had heard stories about this. The spotlight continued to follow Brittany, creating a halo effect around her, reminiscent of her performance the previous evening. Only this time is was different. It was new. It was the beginning. She knew.


	8. Two Become One

**A/N: Words just cannot do justice for what I want to say to lizzylizbian who agreed to co-write this chapter with me. None of this fic would be what it is without her and I wanted to thank her by inviting her to write on this chapter. It's both our favourite chapter so far and I hope you agree. She's really added something special to this fic and I can't thank her enough. Also, Lizzy, this is for you, a belated birthday gift, even if you did write a chunk of it :)**

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><p>Chapter 7 – Two Become One<p>

**Two**

Two days she had been back at work, overseeing the kitchen as her Sous Chef took some deserved time off. Two days and she had felt like she had not been away at all. It was the same craziness it was before; however this time, she looked at it from a different perspective. Santana was able to remain on light duties, her hand was healing nicely, she had considerately more mobility, the pain was now just the odd tingle and she only dressed it for work. This had made her moments with Brittany very interesting indeed. She sighed contentedly as she whisked a sauce on the stove, a smirk tugging at her lips as the blonde danced through her thoughts.

Glancing at the clock, she had two hours left of her shift. An early finish with a special date night to prepare for once she returned to her apartment. She had made a deal her girlfriend several weeks ago and she was not one go back on her word. Tonight she would cook Brittany the meal she had promised. It was her special birthday meal for the blonde. However, there was one thing the dancer wasn't quite yet expecting. They would be cooking the meal together.

Brittany had admitted on several occasions she was less than competent in the kitchen. In fact, the blonde's speciality was a sandwich, but a 'real darn good' sandwich she reiterated. Santana had smiled and watched her girlfriend adoringly as she demonstrated these skills one lunch time whilst the chef was out of action. The brunette was first to admit she had been wrong about her trepidation and instantly hummed with approval the moment she took a bite of Brittany's gourmet dish. She was met with bright eyes and a dashing smile, enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. Brittany had won Santana's approval over a simple thing such as a sandwich, but as food was the chef's domain, the blonde took great pride in receiving her girlfriend's praise.

Two hours. Those two hours would be the longest of Santana's life. She had never had a reason to clock watch before, but with the anticipation of spending time with her girlfriend, the time could not pass by quick enough.

"Is that supposed to look like that?" a voice appeared from over her shoulder. Shaking the brunette from her reverie, she looked down with wide eyes at the bubbling foam in the pan below her. "I don't think that's supposed to look like that," the voice cooed again with mild amusement. Santana rolled her eyes before turning down the heat on the stove. "Concentration San." they proceeded with a laugh. Santana rushed the pan over to the sink, disposing of the contents before turning to her intruder, a scowl firmly set in response to a cocky gleam. "We're not in the business of wastage Santana. I suggest you work on that." If Santana's eyebrows could become any closer, they did. They met in the middle with fury; it was time to retaliate.

"Get out of my kitchen Quinn!" she all but screamed, a firm finger pointing toward the door. Used to outbursts from the fiery chef, the blonde held up her hands in mock defeat and cocked her head to the side.

"Ok, ok." she said quietly, "but could you at least stop thinking about your girlfriend for five minutes and concentrate on work?" the restaurateur asked softly. When a tea towel hit her head, she knew she had gone too far with the teasing and smiled in triumph. Quinn knew exactly which of the chef's buttons to press. "I'm gone." she replied, pulling the cloth from her hair and straightening out her locks. "I think that's round one to me." she smirked with wink, carrying herself with glory to the kitchen door. Santana huffed. She hated the blonde being right and lately that happened more often than not. The brunette really needed to up her game.

**One**

One more show to get through and then she could start her birthday celebrations. One day away was her birthday. She was beyond excited. This year would easily top any birthday she had celebrated before. Firstly, her career had hit new heights; she was on the path to achieving her dreams. Secondly, was Santana. Brittany was so elated that the brunette returned her affection and felt the same way. Since the moment she met the chef, she felt an overwhelming urge to get to know her better. She felt an instant attraction to the girl that was unlike anyone she had met before. Beyond that, Santana was oblivious to Brittany's growing popularity on the Broadway circuit and to the dancer it was a welcome respite from the adoration she garnered.

It was Saturday afternoon, a matinee performance which she enjoyed the most and welcomed families to the theatre. The Arts had been important to her as a child and she was willing to do anything to help with educating young people on the sector. It was another of her dreams to open a performance academy for under privileged kids, yet that was something to plan in the future. Right now she had neither the ways nor the means and wanted to establish herself as a respectable name in the business. That way, sponsorship deals and bursaries would be more accessible.

More than anything, Brittany was excited for the evening. Tonight she was finally going to be privy to Santana's cooking on a personal basis, as the brunette was cooking her a birthday meal. The blonde was giddy. She was looking forward to the evening with her girlfriend, more than she was her actual birthday. They had spent plenty of time with one another during the week in Brittany's down time. The dancer helping Santana with household chores, keeping her company and ultimately entertaining the other woman. The brunette was by no means an easy patient. Yet it seemed Brittany was all Santana needed to be happy and that in itself was reward enough for the blonde.

The show was over as quickly as it started. The blonde blinked as the curtain descended. She was well rehearsed in the shows which had become routine and so it had rushed by. Approaching Tina with a furrowed brow, the other girl smiled warmly at her. "Another great show Brittany. They love you." she had half expected to be told about a step she missed or a mistimed jump, but it seemed her performance was as exemplary as ever. She smiled sweetly at the brunette, thankful for the encouraging praise and took the towel that was proffered. "Don't forget the meeting in half an hour." Tina reminded her. Brittany offered a weak nod - a meeting she could really do without today of all days - and wiped her brow as she headed toward her dressing room.

Sitting at the mirror, she shot a quick text message to Santana, expressing her anticipation for the evening. Watching the sent message pop up she smiled widely as a knock at the door startled her. Without turning, she shouted out for the intruder to enter, not once glancing up as she gazed at the picture of herself and Santana on her cell phone. "Brittany, sweetheart?" a familiar voice washed over the room. Frowning, she looked up, gazing at the reflections in the mirror. Her eyes bulged with disbelief before spinning around in her chair. "Well, aren't you going to give us a hug?"

"Dad!" she said as she jumped up and became engulfed in a huge, warm, bear hug. "You're early. Your flight was booked for this evening." Brittany stated, unsure of the sudden change of plans. She pulled away from her father and went to repeat the action with her mother.

"We got tickets to the show." Ray replied by way of explanation.

"We wanted to see you perform again Brittany. You were so good the last time. You've improved too. You were so much stronger." Valerie stated.

"Thanks Mom." replied the chuffed blonde. "What are you going to do now? I mean, I have to be in a meeting in half an hour and I have plans this evening so I can't . . ."

"It's ok pumpkin." Ray said, "We'll entertain ourselves."

"That's right sweetheart, we'll keep the plans as they were before and meet for Mass and then lunch tomorrow."

"Mass? Do I have to go?" Brittany asked, looking hopefully at Ray who only shrugged.

"I think you should honey." Valerie stated.

"Fine." the blonde sighed in defeat, receiving no help from her father. "I'll meet you there."

"Good." replied a very satisfied older blonde. "We'll be going now. Don't be late and tell your friend to meet us at the restaurant. I'll text you the details." she concluded. Brittany cringed at the mention of her girlfriend. Tomorrow was going to be very interesting indeed.

xx

The sauce incident propelled Santana into a busy period in the kitchen, people were leaving matinee performances and scurrying into the restaurant for a meal. The chef also surmised that with it being Easter weekend, the City was busier and people were willing to dig deep into their pockets and treat themselves. Every time the kitchen door burst open, she heard the chatter of the patrons, the clashing of glasses and the sound of scraping cutlery against plates. It was one of her favourite sounds in the world. "Santana!" That, however was not. She cowered every time the wait staff would enter the kitchen and yell her name, for fear of a complaint. However, it was a rare occurrence. She turned to her friend who had hurried into the kitchen on a mission.

"Kurt?" she replied, waiting for the Matre D to speak. She was back on sauce duty, a tea towel slung over her shoulder, her levels of concentration higher than they had been previously.

"There's a request." he answered cryptically.

"For?" she asked with an exasperated shrug, looking up from the saucepan.

"You." Kurt smirked.

"Elaborate sweet cheeks. I would play twenty questions, but I'm not in kindergarten anymore."

"Your patience is admirable." Kurt said with a wink, earning a raised eyebrow from the chef. "Right, well, there's a gentleman outside requesting to meet with the chef."

"And you told him I was busy right? And you'd pass on your compliments and blah blah blah." Santana responded, her eyes back on the task at hand.

"He was rather insistent." Kurt emphasised. The colour immediately drained from the Latina's cheeks.

"Oh fuck, it's a complaint isn't it?" she asked.

"No, no." the Matre D quickly reassured. He knew of the chef's distaste for dealing with complaints. She usually kicked proverbial ass in dealing with them, but the preamble is what she dreaded the most. "He does want to compliment, but I think you kinda blew him off before." Santana sighed, if there was one thing she disliked, it was pushy people.

"I can't Kurt, get chuckles over there to do it." she nodded toward a more serious member of the kitchen staff, so stern and concentrated on his efforts.

"I can't, Mr _Pierce_," he emphasised the surname, "would like to speak with the chef." The brunette's head immediately snapped back up, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and trepidation.

"Is, err, is Britt here?" she asked nervously.

"No, Mr and Mrs Pierce are flying solo, or duo, or together . . ." Kurt's ramblings drifted off into a deep thinking process. "Like a pair of doves." he concluded wistfully.

"Kurt?" she snapped his attention back to her. "What do I say?" she asked nervously.

"Go be the amazing chef you are." he stated placing both hands on Santana's shoulders. "This is your realm, your place. Be confident; be Chef Lopez."

"You'd make a lousy sports coach." Santana mused with a smile. "But you're a good friend." she concluded.

"Do they know about you and Brittany?"

"No." she said vehemently shaking her head.

"Then you'll be fine." he stated reassuringly, dropping his hands to his sides. "And don't worry about anyone saying anything, it's mostly newbies serving this afternoon."

"Ok. I can do this." she removed the cloth from her shoulder and straightened out her apron. Setting her shoulders back, she made her way out of the kitchen and into the lion's den.

With an overwhelming wave of nerves, Santana found herself travelling torturously toward the table. With one last deep breath, she stepped up acknowledging the patrons with a nod before greeting them.

"Mr and Mrs Pierce, I'm Santana Lopez, the head chef." She held out her hand, Ray took it and shook enthusiastically.

"It's an honour to meet you Ms Lopez. We're a big fan of your food and the restaurant." he stated with a wide grin. Santana nodded again, taking in the words.

"Thank you Mr Pierce, I appreciate that." she said with a smile. "Was the steak to your liking?" she asked, having been prepped by Kurt on her way out of the kitchen. Ray kissed his fingers and flicked the air, Italian style.

"Perfect." he beamed. "My daughter raves about you and the food all the time, you've made quite an impression on her." Santana instantly blushed, her eyes met her feet, to hide her flush.

"Yes, Brittany says she likes to eat here a lot and that you're very friendly and accommodating." Valerie chimed. Santana smiled coyly, reading beyond the words that were spoken. Picking her words carefully, the brunette responded.

"Brittany is a valued customer and has become a great friend." she stated. The Latina could schmooze with the best of them, she had seen her parents, the experts, at work. Her nerves were long gone, based on the looks of pride and wonderment on the faces before her, she had them in the palm of her hand.

"You're friends?" Valerie enquired. "Well I guess that's no surprise, Brittany can befriend almost anyone. But a chef? That's so exciting, I've been telling her she should socialise outside of the theatre. All those drama queens can be a bit too flamboyant at times. Our Brittany is a homely girl at heart." Santana suppressed a chuckle. Brittany's mother really was something. "Now if she'd only find a boyfriend and settle down." she muttered as an afterthought. Santana stilled. Her heart dropped and as she was about to open her mouth; however, Kurt swooped in to her rescue.

"Emergency, kitchen." he stated sharply. "Sorry to tear her away." he said apologetically to the Pierce's.

"Not a problem." Ray replied with a wave. "Thank you for your time Ms Lopez. Maybe we will meet again soon."

"Santana, please, and I'm sure we will." she stated knowingly before she was whisked off.

Kurt stood against a work top as he carefully watched Santana who was leaning over the sink, heeding the words she had heard moments ago. As the silence prolonged, the Matre D became fidgety, wondering exactly what was going through the chef's head. "Are you going to say something?" Kurt asked hopefully. He watched as Santana raised her head, her eyes bore through him, causing the guy to jump back startled a little. "Ok, so you're not going to say anything." he concluded. The Latina turned around and rested against the sink, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "But you know, she doesn't know you and Brittany are dating so what she said was kinda fair game." he reasoned, at the risk of Santana's wrath. The brunette thought back to those early encounters with Brittany, and remembered one thing she had stated, that her Mom had tried to marry her off, much to the dancer's disdain. It was the reason Brittany found herself drinking alone that night and starting conversation with Santana. The brunette nodded slowly, the pieces beginning to form a picture in her head. "You're still not going to say anything are you?" Kurt asked. When he received no response, he huffed dramatically and stormed out of the kitchen, eliciting a trademark smirk from the chef.

xx

Santana was situated to the side, watching Brittany as she struggled to mix the bowl with a spoon. The brunette smiled fondly. Observing the blonde was a favourite past time of hers. Brittany had kicked off her stiletto shoes and was barefoot in the tiled kitchen. Her lean, toned calves were tanned and smooth. Santana's eyes raked over the short black dress, the effort Brittany had gone to was not unnoticed by the brunette. Santana smirked as her eyes hovered on Brittany's behind, causing her mouth to gape slightly, as her breathing, along with her eyelids became heavy with desire. Her girlfriend was hot, insanely so and she had trouble cooling her thoughts. "I can't do this." huffed Brittany, struggling to work the mixture. Santana shook her head, her mind suddenly very much back in the room.

"Huh?" she asked, clearing her throat. Brittany turned to look at her, confusion adorning her careful features. "Oh right." Santana stated and took a step closer. She placed a kissed on the blonde's forehead, kissing away the lines. Brittany smiled sweetly and moved away from the bowl. "Don't move." Santana said, as she swooped in beside the dancer and took her hands in her own, guiding them into the bowl. "Here," she said, "like this." and she began to work the mixture with both hers and Brittany's fingers. The texture of the food and the feel of Brittany's fingers interlaced with her own was overwhelming. Here she was combining her two favourite things in the world, Brittany and food. She rested her head on the blonde's shoulder, watching as their fingers worked in unison. "I met your parents today." Santana said casually, trying not to make a big deal of it. Brittany froze, her hands stilled, without looking she replied to the brunette.

"I err, yeah, they flew in early to see the show and surprise me." The blonde stated. "They went to the restaurant?" Santana nodded her head in confirmation, studying Brittany's features closely. "And?"

"And they loved the food." Santana shrugged. "And your Mom wishes you would get a boyfriend and settle down." Brittany laughed nervously and swiftly avoided the statement, working her hands back into the mixture.

"There's a reason why you're so good at this and why I shouldn't even step into a kitchen." Brittany said.

"Oh I don't know," Santana started, aware of the blonde's diversion tactics, "you make an awesome sandwich." she smiled, placing a kiss to Brittany's neck, "besides, you look super cute in an apron." the blonde sniggered.

"I bet you look super cute in just an apron." Santana smiled at Brittany's words, just as her stomach somersaulted. She took her hands from the bowl and turned to the dancer, placing her arms over Brittany's shoulders, careful not to get food all over her date. Brittany too faced Santana, her arms winding around the brunette's slim waist, clasping at the back. "I think," Brittany continued, barely above a whisper, "You would look even better naked." Santana smirked before she crashed her lips against the blonde's, as Brittany pulled the chef closer to her body. The contact was a result of the yearning and desperation she harboured by needing to claim Brittany as her own. Santana was determined to show the blonde that she was all she needed and desired. Brittany's mother's wishes were just a distant misguided dream. Santana sought entrance to the blonde's mouth with her tongue, sweeping it gently across the dancer's lips. Obliging, Brittany opened her mouth, allowing her mate access. A warm welcome awaited as Santana's velvet tongue probed further. The dual was intense, yet conveyed a soft, loving message - Brittany was her girl and Santana wanted to show her that. The brunette sighed with satisfaction as a pleasured moan emanated from the dancer. Gently pulling away, a soft pop echoed as their lips parted. Their breaths mingled and drew heavily from their heaving chests. Brittany was the first to open her eyes - she looked down, Santana's cleavage on full show. The blonde smirked with pride. Santana was hers, all hers and whilst it was her attitude and personality that drew her to the feisty brunette, it was a bonus that she was so physically attractive also. Brittany leant forward and kissed Santana lightly on the lips, causing the brunette's eyes to slowly flutter open. "Hey." Brittany said.

"Hey." Replied the Latina.

"We have a dinner to cook." the blonde stated. "Plenty of time for sweet lady kisses later." she smiled sweetly. Santana reluctantly pulled away, extracting herself with care as her hands were still caked in the tortellini filling.

"Let's get our cook on." she announced, attacking the bowl with fervour.

Dinner was a quiet affair, basking in each other's company by candle light. Feet stroked against calves. There were shy, coy glances, soft caresses, fingers upon forearms, tickling palms and gentle hand holding. The intimacy was incredibly overpowering, and heightened the senses of both women. They were content to just be, having eaten a beautiful meal prepared and cooked by not one chef, but two women, creating a single delight. They were now tackling desert, sharing one plate of wonderful tiramisu, in keeping with the Italian theme. "Mmm, I love Greek food." Brittany had said, earning a sweet smile and kiss from the brunette.

"It's Italian babe." Santana corrected, "But close." she reassured, securing a smile from the blonde.

"This tiramisu is amazing San." she spoke with her mouth full, unable to contain her delight. "I mean, you're like a goddess, the Pope would approve."

"Erm, thanks." Santana replied with a confused smile. She could see how Brittany had linked the two, but was perplexing nonetheless.

"Mm, oh yeah." the blonde continued. "Mom wants to go to the Easter service at Saint Patrick's tomorrow."

"Britt that place is going to be packed."

"I know right?" the blonde responded with an exaggerated nod, taking another spoonful of dessert. "They got tickets or something. I think they're like friends with someone important or something, but not the Pope or Jesus or anything." she stated. Santana nodded in agreement, the Chianti relaxing her thoughts. "Mom wants me to go." Santana's eyes snapped up to meet the sparkling blues gazing back at her. The brunette's hand reached out to the stem of her wine glass and lifted it from the table, giving it a gentle swirl before placing it against her lips. She took a small sip and momentarily closed her eyes, feeling the warm claret liquid slip smoothly and warmly down her throat.

"Do you believe in God?" she asked, aware of the blonde having been raised Catholic. She too had a similar upbringing, but was now out of practice. Brittany shrugged and pondered the question for a moment whilst chewing her lip. Santana rested her head on her hand, propped up by her elbow on the table, and watched the blonde as she thought about it.

"I guess, I believe in like a nice, happy God. Like one you can talk to like a best friend. Someone who will always be there for you and will forgive nice people for doing bad things by accident if you say sorry." she said with a nod, happy with her answer.

"I like that." Santana said with an adoring smile, with her other hand she picked up Brittany's in her own and stroked her thumb over the blonde's soft skin.

"Mom doesn't think so." The blonde stated sadly. "She thinks he is like this big mean man in the sky who is unforgiving and angry."

"Why?" the Latina reacted immediately with a frown, yet her thumb remained steadily comforting the young dancer.

"I don't know." the blonde shrugged again, "I guess because her parents were like that."

"What about your Dad?"

"His Mom and Dad died when he was young." she paused, "He goes to mass and stuff with Mum, but he doesn't really talk about it."

"I'm sorry about your Grandparents Britt Britt." Santana offered, squeezing her girlfriend's hand.

"I'm not with you to spite her you know." The blonde said suddenly. The Latina shook her head, knowing the words to be true. "She's difficult, she knows that I like girls too, but she's convinced I will fall in love with Prince Charming, have a family and live happily ever after. She tries to understand and I know she loves me, but I don't think she can handle the truth."

"I understand, my Dad was a little like that to start with, but I guess I was lucky that he came around. Now we're closer than ever." Santana explained hopefully.

"That's sweet, but I somehow don't think my Mother will turn into an advocate overnight." she laughed bitterly.

"Hey, you're amazing, you know that?" Santana stated. Her eyes bore into Brittany's, conveying every feeling that was swirling around inside of her. "I love you Brittany." the brunette admitted. She felt it. She had felt it for days, since it hit her like an emotional brick tumbling from the sky. She had known the moment Brittany began to walk towards her following her performance the previous week when Santana had watched from the sidelines. The Latina had been able to distinguish between Brittany and her character and she loved everything that made the blonde who she was. All the minute things, all the medial things and all the marvellous things. Her heart beat with every thought of the other woman. It swelled with every touch. Her life had become Brittany and she did not want to shy away from it anymore.

"You love me." Brittany stated, since meeting Santana she knew it was inevitable they would fall in love with one another, yet she always thought she would be the one to declare it first, when she felt Santana was ready. Before she could say anything, the brunette continued to speak.

"You put up with the stuff that even frustrates the hell out of me Britt." Santana began with brutal honesty, "you've seen me at my worst, my bitchiest, my tiredest . . ."

"They sort of all fall under the same blanket San." Brittany teased earning a weak smile from her girlfriend, squeezing the hand in her own, urging the other girl to continue.

"You've seen me at my weakest." she paused and looked longingly at the blonde sat in front of her, "it's just, you have this amazing patience which I think we've established is needed to put up with my shit." Brittany moved her chair around so she was now sitting next to the brunette and put a loving arm around her, urging the other woman to hug her side.

"Emotions aren't shit San. Everyone has a thing." she pulled the girl in her arms closer, placing a sweet kiss on top of the brunette's head. "You just needed a little guidance in that department."

"There you go again." Santana sighed contentedly, "You're like the smartest person I know."

"Woah," Brittany giggled, "Don't go overboard honey." Santana lifted her head up, needing so much to look into those eyes again, wanting to convey with every fibre of her being what she was feeling.

"I mean it," she emphasised, "It's like your humility and empathy is amazing. You should totally replace Angelina Jolie in the United Nations." she joked with a playful smirk and nudge in Brittany's ribs.

"I haven't seen that movie." Brittany replied wistfully. She thought with care. "I thought I had seen all her movies." she concluded with a shrug. Santana smiled adoringly at her girlfriend and leaned up for a kiss.

"I really do love you Britt." having been repeated, the words were sinking in to the blonde, her mind clearer than it had ever been.

"And I'm totally in love with you Santana."

In awe that someone so special could actually love her, Santana repeated, "you're...in love with me." However, her voice cracked, making it come out as a question. Taking Santana's hands in her own, Brittany paused. She didn't want Santana to think she was just saying it; she didn't want her to question the sincerity. No. She wanted the woman she loved to see it, feel it, and know it; she wanted her words to stand on their own. Silently, she led the willing chef towards the couch. Seated knee to knee in front of the roaring fire, Brittany tucked a loose piece of dark, silken hair behind Santana's ear, letting her fingertips map the soft skin underneath. There was no rush to say the words while her hands were saying it for her. Finally, when dark eyes looked up at her, Brittany cupped Santana's cheek. Softly, yet determined, she stated, "I love you, Santana. I'm..." happy tears began to pool, making her blue eyes shimmer like sunlight on the ocean, "...I'm in love with you."

In her heart of hearts, Santana knew that the dancer wasn't just parroting her sentiment. They weren't empty promises. She could tell that Brittany meant those words with every fiber of her being. Hearing them said with so much honesty, from the only person she'd ever truly wanted to hear say them, filled Santana's heart with unimaginable joy. That supposedly useless muscle she had thought atrophied, swelled to the point she worried it'd burst. It pushed against her ribs, cutting off her air. It made her head light. She felt punch-drunk with happiness. Only Brittany's steady, loving gaze grounded her. Like gravity, it kept her rooted to the moment.

Over the months, they had taken things slow, neither willing to rush anything. This special night was no different. However, lit by the warm glow of the fire and wrapped in each other's love, both women were buzzing with anticipation. Though it hadn't been discussed, there was an understanding of what the night held - of what it meant for their relationship. Every bashful look, every tentative touch, every cherished moment had paved the way. And yet, they still had so much journey left to share. It was that thought that propelled Santana irrevocably forward. Ignoring her racing heart, ever so slowly, she closed the expanse. Needing to feel - needing to touch Brittany's skin, she ran the pads of her fingers over the dancer's face. It was astounding how simply touching Brittany set her body aflame. The roaring fire was no match; Brittany burned a thousand times brighter.

Unable to remain idle, the blonde mimicked the tender caress. It was a silent statement that Santana wasn't alone; that she wasn't just a passenger; they were in this together. As their lips were about to meet, like an endless highway, the moment stretched out for eternity. Knowing it wasn't just any kiss, but the start of something more, their eyes connected one final time. That's exactly what it felt like: a connection. In that brief flicker of blue and brown lay an unspoken understanding. They knew their destination, but there was still so far to go - so much left to experience together.

Replacing the charged air, Santana finally closed the infinitesimal distance. As skin tenderly brushed skin, a simple spark danced between their lips. It started slow. But like any spark, when given the right conditions, ignited. Filled with promise, that kiss set fire to the moment. Tangling her fingers into the chef's satin locks, Brittany shifted closer. Impossibly close. Close enough to share the same air, the same breath. Close enough that her senses were overwhelmed with everything Santana. Their earlier admissions of love played like a silent soundtrack. Even though it was the first time, Brittany's body recognized the beat. Like a steady drum, her heart kept rhythm. It pounded through her body, her fingers twitching with motion. Before she even realized what she was doing, she found herself crawling on top of Santana. As her weight settled over the woman she loved, her hips pressed down tentatively. The breathy gasp she received made her burn with need.

When a toned thigh brushed between her legs, Brittany couldn't help moaning against the chef's pouty lips. At hearing the sound, it took all Santana's willpower not to take the dancer right there. It'd be so easy to just raise her leg a little higher. It'd be so easy to just tilt her hips up and pull Brittany down. However, she needed more. She needed Brittany completely. But more so, she needed to give herself completely and that was nearly impossible to do clothed on the couch. When Brittany's lips began a teasing path over her cheek and towards her neck, Santana used the opportunity to make her desires known. "Come with me," she husked in the dancer's ear as she smoothly pushed the blonde up and off. Brittany shivered as the words washed over her. Though she didn't want to stop, Santana's loaded request was a promise of so much more. Entwining their fingers, she let the chef lead her to the bedroom.

Unwilling to lose contact, Brittany wrapped her arms tightly around her girlfriend as Santana lit the candles by the bedside. She never let go. Even when Santana spun around, even when the chef's hands worked her zipper down, even when her little black dress was lifted inch by inch, Brittany held tight. Only when Santana asked, "please, can I see you?" did she release her vice-lock grip. It almost felt as if it was Santana's silky skin dancing across her body, up her thighs, over her stomach, grazing her breasts. Lost in the feel of the material coasting over her, Brittany shut her eyes. Santana took a step back as she pulled the black fabric free. Unable to tear her gaze away, she admired the woman before her. The blonde's body was muscular but wonderfully feminine. Years of dance were mapped on Brittany's toned abs and her pert breasts stood proudly against her lithe frame. She was a goddess; a sculpture, chiseled from the finest marble. In awe, Santana admitted, "God, you're beautiful," gaining the blonde's attention. Brittany caught the unabashedly lustful stare. Watching those dark eyes lasciviously rake over her body fueled her burning flame. Needing to see the still fully clothed Latina, she begged, "San."

One simple word - nothing more than her name - made Santana's body flush hot. She'd heard Brittany say it countless times, but never like that. Never with such love, adoration, and desperation. It reverberated through her, settling at her core. Knowing what the blonde wanted, the chef slowly removed her own clothes. As Brittany crawled backwards up the bed, she commented coyly, "best birthday present ever." The Latina shook her head, her long dark hair swishing back and forth. Before Brittany could get too used to the view, she climbed onto the bed. Like a lioness, her shoulder blades flexed as she crawled on her hands and knees up Brittany's prone body, rendering the dancer speechless. Thankfully she didn't have to talk because Santana's lips sought her out in a heated kiss. There was nothing subtle about it; it screamed, 'I want you.'

In the dimly lit room, Santana worked her way back down leaving a hot trail of kisses. Though her pulse raced knowing what lay ahead, she was unwilling to rush anything. Taking her sweet time, she lovingly teased and toyed with her girlfriend's breasts and ever hardening nipples. They fit perfectly in her cupped hands. It was like she was meant to hold them, play with them, tease them, kiss them. However, when she felt the body below her shift for more contact, Santana knew what she needed to do. Hooking her fingers into her girlfriend's last remaining item of clothing, she slid the black thong down, making sure to caress every inch of skin with her fingers. She whispered, "this is your birthday present," as she settled herself underneath Brittany's bent knees. Chancing a glance up, blue eyes met hers. They were aflame with need. Without hesitating another second, the chef lovingly kissed the inside of the dancer's sculpted thigh. She continued her path, switching legs every so often, working her way closer to her goal. As her hands snaked around, settling on Brittany's toned stomach, Santana could feel her girlfriend's breathing grow irregular. Slowly she kissed her way ever closer. When she finally reached Brittany's center, she could smell the blonde's arousal. The heady scent made her mouth water. It was dizzying - a maddening mix of flowers and earth and undeniably Brittany. Letting her cheek brush against the silky skin of the blonde's inner thigh, she finally kissed the woman she loved where she so desperately needed.

Like their earlier kiss, Brittany felt a spark when Santana's mouth touched her. It was electric. Hot and wet. It made her back arch and toes curl. Desperately searching for more contact - more of everything - her hips canted up. Taking the cue, the chef ran the flat of her tongue over the dancer, reveling in her taste. It was heavenly. More delicious than the finest dish. More scrumptious than the most decadent dessert. Unable to get enough, she greedily lapped at the velvety folds. Brittany was wet. Wet for her. That knowledge was almost as intoxicating as how the dancer was gyrating her hips slowly. After running her hand up toned abs, she ghosted her palm over Brittany's nipple. It pebbled instantly. When she started rolling the hardened nub between her fingers, Brittany's back arched further off the bed.

Having Santana kissing between her thighs, her hands teasing her, was overwhelming. It was an exhilarating combination. Every nerve in her body was awakened and receptive. It felt like the chef was everywhere at once. With every lick, she could feel Santana drag her pouty bottom lip over her folds, could feel the tip of her tongue flutter against her clit, could feel the hot breath and soft moans vibrate against her. Within several short minutes, the telltale signs of her impending orgasm consumed her. She wanted it to last forever. However, when Santana gently grazed a digit over her, Brittany knew she was done.

The symphony of moans grew irregular and shallow, and Santana knew her girlfriend was close. Wanting to make it perfect, needing to make it amazing, she gave it everything. Every ounce of love and desire she had for the blonde went into her soft caresses. She poured passion into ever lick and flick. Tentatively dipping her finger into Brittany's heat drew out a heady gasp. Attaching her lips, she suckled her girlfriend's clit and curled her finger inside. Keeping a slow pumping motion, she matched the rhythm with her mouth. Brittany's body reacted in kind; like when she danced, she lost herself.

The slow burn was all consuming. It spread out, up her stomach, tingling her nipples, gripping her heart. On the precipice, she was barely moving; and yet, it felt like she was flying. And just as she was about to fall, she felt her girlfriend's steady hand shift to her stomach. Such a subtle gesture, but one filled with love and care. She found it wholly reassuring, comforting. Instead of crashing recklessly headfirst, wrapped against her lover, Brittany floated down, slowly riding out her pleasure.

Santana watched in awe as the woman she loved came undone. Even though her thoughts had once been black with doubt, her blossoming friendship with the bewitching blonde had given her a flicker of hope. Hearing those three words further illuminated the darkness. But it was their intimate act that sealed their fate, casting her heart fully into the light. Needing to kiss the still shuddering blonde, she crawled back up. Face to face, she whispered, "happy birthday, my love." Instantly, strong hands pulled her down. "Careful, or I'll squish you." Instead of arguing, Brittany attacked the chef's lips. When she tasted herself on them, she let out a guttural moan. It reignited the flame inside her. Surreptitiously, her hands snuck around the Latina's flawless back and quickly unsnapped the lace lingerie. Even though Santana's body ached for the blonde's touch, she objected, "it's your night, baby." Not hearing it, Brittany all but growled, "it is my birthday. So aren't you going to give me what I want? Because, I want you. I want you as my present." Unable to deny the dancer anything, Santana let the straps of her bra fall. A tiny gasp made her look up. Brittany had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth before her eyes flickered lower. "I want all of you."

As Brittany watched her present unwrap excruciatingly slow, her pulse raced. Never once did she look away from the tantalizing show. Never in her life had she had seen anything so beautiful or want anything as much as in that moment. All those months of imaging what was hidden under the chef's coat paled in comparison to the real thing. Like her heart, Santana hid her true beauty. When there was nothing separating the two women, Santana laid down.

Side by side, Brittany mapped every inch of the chef's olive skin. She let her fingers coast over her girlfriend's neck, over the swell of heaving breasts, and across the hardened points. Feeling Brittany's fingers dance over her was almost too much. She'd barely been touched, and yet, she could feel her arousal pooling between her thighs. Crashing their lips together, she kissed her girlfriend soundly, lightly biting at the blonde's pearlescent bottom lip. Santana could feel the smirk as their tongues tangled and before she knew what was happened, she was on her back.

Straddling her lover, Brittany slipped a leg between the Latina's toned thighs. Their two bodies moved as one. Neither woman was willing to rush it though - better to take their time and enjoy the scenery. Where they connected, it was like they melted into each other. Slowly grinding herself against Santana, the dancer fell into an easy rhythm. It was carnal and sensual. It was undeniably the best dance of her life.

Arching her back, Brittany pulled back slightly to gaze into Santana's eyes. The shift in position caused her thigh to press harder against the chef. After a surprised gasp, Santana's eyes reflexively shut. Taking advantage of the new angle, Brittany continued her slow gyrations. Still sensitive from her previous orgasm, she knew it wouldn't take long; however, she desperately wanted to come together. Deep down, that's all she wanted for her birthday. With her new goal, she worked her hand between their bodies. Dark eyes shot open when she circled Santana's clit with her fingers. The Latina knew she'd orgasm in seconds from the intimate touch. Wanting to come undone at the same time, she shifted the blonde off her. Again, side by side, their eyes locked. As hands loving mapped their most sensitive places, their kisses and caresses echoed their earlier declarations of love.

They were so different. Dancer and chef. Blonde and brunette. Easy going and fiery. Despite the vast differences, they shared a common secret. Both women had wholeheartedly believed they were good at one thing and one thing alone. Though Santana was born to cook and Brittany was born to perform, moving as one they discovered a new truth; they were also born for each other. Loving Brittany came as naturally to Santana as her sinfully succulent soufflés. And loving Santana came as naturally to Brittany as executing a point perfect pirouette. They were made to be together.

At the exact moment that Santana worked a finger inside her, Brittany did the same. Connected in the most intimate ways - never once breaking contact, never once looking away - their pleasure soared to unsustainable heights. In those sweet, dark hours, time stopped. In perfect sync, they became one. The world dropped away and the only thing that existed was the physical manifestation of their earlier words. Simultaneously, they cried out, "I love you," as both women submitted to the moment. Lunging forward, Brittany captured Santana's lips as their bodies shook with release.

Still quivering, still staring deeply into her lover's eyes, Santana searched for the words, "that was..." When nothing came out, Brittany kissed her sweetly. A wide smile graced her perfect features as she replied, "I know."

Just as sleep overtook her, Santana mumbled into golden locks, "happy birthday."

xx

She lay, so snug and comfortable in the bed feeling completely content and relaxed. Her breathing was easy, while her eyes were heavy with the sleep that had consumed her. Brittany let out a happy sigh as she turned onto her side and took in the dishevelled appearance of the nude brunette beside her. Santana remained sleeping, looking so peaceful and innocent as if she had never been troubled. Her face was a picture of perfection. Her skin was flawless, her full lips in a slight pout and her hair was tousled, framing her features. Brittany's heart skipped a beat; it was her birthday and her present, although already unwrapped, was the most incredible thing she could have ever wished for. Santana lay on her side, facing Brittany, whose eyes lazily traced the contours of the Latina's body. Starting from Santana's strong defined shoulder. The chef's arm came to rest protectively across her chest, hand under the pillow her head was resting upon, the other lost underneath her body. The line continued along the brunette's side, a slight dip at the waist, where the bed sheet pooled, clinging to her almost like a second skin. Brittany continued her visual assault on the brunette. The rise at Santana's hip caused a stirring deep within the blonde.

Brittany crawled across the small space that separated the lovers. Her lips were drawn naturally to Santana's. Puckering up, she placed a languid, loving kiss to the Latina's soft awaiting lips - the pout an instant invitation to which Brittany obliged. She stroked her fingers over the smooth skin of Santana's slightly blushed cheeks, smiling adoringly as the beauty began to stir. A small frown formed a crease between the Latina's brows as she started to regain consciousness. Brittany kissed her again, before moving her lips higher, kissing away the lines spoiling the brunette's features. The frown quickly turned into a knowing smile, realisation and memories of the previous night flooding back for Santana. Eventually her eyes fluttered open, meeting the expectant blue orbs of her bed mate.

"Morning beautiful." Brittany hummed, her fingers drawing patterns over Santana's skin, "Are you ok?"

"Mmmhmm." Santana drawled, not quite trusting her voice. "More than ok." she stated, her voice husky from a combination of sleep and lustful cries. She was content to just lay there, gazing at the stunning woman with mussed blonde locks whose fingers were leaving goose bumps in their wake. "Happy birthday Brittany." Santana added sweetly. Brittany grinned and leaned in for another chaste kiss, this time letting her lips linger a little longer. She pulled back, barely an inch away, her eyes heavy. As she spoke, her voice was thick, laced with wanton lust.

"You said that already." her mind flashing back to the previous moment Santana had offered the birthday wishes.

"It's your birthday all day." the Latina justified with a smirk before latching herself back onto Brittany's soft pink lips. "How about a special breakfast?" she asked earning a sly, devilish grin from the blonde. Santana rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's suggestive smirk. "You didn't get enough last night?"

"Never," chimed the dancer, licking her lips - mouth suddenly dry, "I could never have enough of you." the magnetism between them pulled them closer. Just as eyes closed and lips met, a cell phone vibrated loudly, the buzzing in the silent room catching the attention of the two women. "Is that yours or mine?" Brittany asked, mumbling against Santana's lips. The Latina shrugged, she had other things on her mind. "I guess it can wait." the brunette smiled, satisfied with Brittany's answer. The blonde's sudden gasp wrenched Santana from her stupor. Her puckered lips quickly turned into a pout as the dancer jumped out of the bed and began flinging items of clothing into the air. Santana watched from the bed with bemusement. "Shit, shit, shit." came the out of character mantra from the birthday girl.

"B, what is it?" Santana asked as she sat up, the bed sheet dropped, exposing more of her taut stomach. Brittany had to shake her head to regain concentration, causing the brunette to grin with pride at the effect she had on the other woman.

"I'm late." the dancer replied scavenging for her underwear. "I have to meet my parents for Mass." she said, still scurrying around on the hard wood floor. "You need a rug or something in here San." as she got to her feet, Brittany rubbed at her sore knees. "I can't wear this." she held up the black evening dress in one hand, a look of pure deflation upon her features. Before she knew it, strong arms had wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Hey." Santana said soothingly near her ear, "you can wear something of mine." Brittany leaned back slightly and frowned. "We'll find something, don't worry." Santana cooed. She placed a small kiss on the blonde's nose.

"You're so hot naked." Brittany stated, enjoying the feel of Santana's skin against hers. "I mean you're like hot all the time, but you're like super hot right now." The blonde pulled away with sadness. "If we had more time I'd totally do you right now."

"And I would totally let you." Santana winked mischievously as she turned and sauntered over to her wardrobe, an added swagger to her step. Brittany could only watch with heightened lust after her girlfriend as time ticked away.

xx

"I'm sorry . . . Thank you . . . Sorry . . . Thanks . . . Ommpf' Brittany eventually made it into her seat having navigated New York Easter traffic in the back of a cab and a long line of Church goers in the same row as her parents. She was rewarded with a heavy glare from her mother and a raised, questioning eyebrow from her father. Luckily for Brittany, the congregation were half way through the opening hymn. A sigh of relief passed the blonde's lips as she opened her hymn book to the appropriate page.

"We'll talk about this later." Valerie stated with a slight hiss. "Brittany," she started again, with a brief pause, "what on earth are you wearing?" The blonde looked down at her attire. Sure it was beyond her usual style, but she was pretty sure the outfit Santana had chosen for her was presentable, given their size differences. Ray cast an eye over his daughter and shrugged, none the wiser when it came to her garments. She could be wearing pyjamas and he would still believe it to be en vogue. Understanding his daughter's fashion choices never really had to make sense to him.

If Brittany were to be honest, she would never have believed that Santana owned a pair of smart black cropped trousers. The black tank top and black rolled sleeved blazer however were more the chef's style. Santana had explained the pants were a gift from her mother and were a little on the loose side and was happy to finally have found a deserving owner. The blonde was able to wear the black heels she had worn the previous evening. "You look amazing." Santana had stated with awe, trying with all her might not to pounce on her girlfriend. "I love that you're wearing my clothes." she did however manage to steal a languid kiss before the blonde had to shoot off in a hurry. Following an intimate exchange of 'I love yous' they agreed to meet at the restaurant Ray had booked for lunch later on that day.

"You never wear just plain black Brittany." Valerie's hushed voice in her ear swiftly brought the blonde daydreamer back to the present. She smiled. Her mother was right, yet for Santana she had chosen the colour in an attempt at sophistication and sheer seduction. It had worked. Right now, Brittany felt like the luckiest girl in the world and it was only just the beginning.

Xx

The Pierce's were sat at a window table in the Brasserie Ruhlmann restaurant at Rockerfella Plaza, a short walk from St Patrick's Cathedral. Brittany looked around her in wonderment. It was an upmarket restaurant with dark furniture, ornate art deco features and a flare of French influenced cuisine. She smiled to herself, wondering what Santana would think of the establishment, if she would appreciate the food as much as Brittany hoped. Several times the two women had eaten out at various restaurants and bistros in the city. This was a little more expensive than what they were used to, but Ray had chosen the venue for Brittany's birthday lunch as she could not decide. Ray and Valerie were waiting patiently for the dancer's guest to arrive whilst Brittany tapped her foot in anticipation, as her eyes were trained on the door. "Brittany honey, you haven't told us anything about your new friend." Valerie stated with a warm friendly smile, having given Brittany a swift dressing down on the walk to the restaurant for her earlier lateness. Brittany beamed at the sheer thought of her girlfriend.

"She's my best friend." the blonde answered without hesitation.

"That's great honey, I'm so pleased you've managed to find a special friend in New York." Valerie replied, looking over the top of her reading glasses, to which Brittany stifled a laugh at the implication of her mother's words, "Does she at least have a name?"

"Santana." Brittany breathed, as the object of the conversation stepped over the threshold, her eyes scanning the busy restaurant. Her lips upturned into a gleaming smile as she spotted the Pierce's and made her way over to the table.

"Is that . . ." Ray began, slightly star struck.

"The chef from that restaurant." Valerie concluded with an approving nod as she and her husband stood to greet the brunette; a round of hand shaking and polite greetings commenced. Brittany's parents were more than welcoming. Their friendly nature matched Brittany's and it immediately put the chef at ease. Santana turned her attention to the birthday girl who was waiting patiently for her own greeting. Brittany threw her arms tightly around the Latina and whispered in her ear.

"I missed you." making sure she was out of earshot of her parents. They were busy sitting themselves back down at the table.

"Me too." Santana returned in a hushed tone. Pulling apart Santana appraised the blonde, a knowing smile tugging at her lips, proud that her girl was wearing her clothes. "Happy Birthday Britt." she said, as if for the first time that day.

"Thanks Santana." Brittany took in the Latina's appearance fully. She wore a pair of grey skinny pants, with laced-up boots, a light silk cap-sleeved top and a cardigan hung loosely in her hand. It was chic. It was hot. "You look . . ." the blonde paused for words as she followed the light bouncing down the cascading raven locks. "Gor - rrrreat." she corrected, aware of her parents' presence.

"Brittany, I thought you grew out of your Tony the Tiger phase last year." her father stated, almost disparagingly as he lifted his eyes from the menu. Santana's eyes widened questioningly, an amused glint sparking life into the brown orbs. Stealing a glance at Ray, the brunette realised the man was serious.

"It was my favourite cereal." she announced with a nonchalant shrug. If it was possible, Santana's smile grew that much wider; her love for the blonde continued to grow, with every word, every touch and everything just Brittany. The two girls sat down beside one another, both finding it increasingly difficult to keep their hands to themselves. It was going to be a very long meal indeed.

"So Santana." Ray began, he turned to his wife and giggled, "I still can't get used to calling her that." he returned his attention to the bemused brunette in front of him, "How long have you lived in the City?" Santana smiled as she placed down her fork and waited to swallow the food in her mouth before talking.

"Well Sir, I moved here after Thanksgiving last year." she stated. She picked up the glass of red from the table and took a sip, having a feeling this conversation was about to get personal.

"So you're new to the City like our Britty?" Valerie said."Oh that rhymes." she giggled, earning raised eyebrows from Santana. "It's good that you two have become friends, it's a daunting place."

"Where are you from Santana?" Ray asked. Santana glanced at the blonde beside her who was offering an apologetic grimace. The brunette flashed a reassuring smile and patted the blonde's thigh quickly and proceeded to pick up her fork once again.

"Los Angeles, born and raised." she stated. "I moved back there after my apprenticeship and training in Europe." Valerie's head shot up at the mention of the other continent.

"Where in Europe?" Ray asked with a renewed interest. "Brittany went to drama school in London and made it in the West End." he beamed with pride.

"Yes Sir, you must be so proud of her. She's an amazing performer." Santana spoke so lovingly, her eyes wandering sideways to witness the blush creep up the dancer's neck and over her cheeks. Turning her attention back to Ray, she proceeded to answer his question. "I trained in Paris for several years and then moved over to London for a year before heading back to Los Angeles. My parents are there and an opportunity to advance my career arose. Plus if I'm honest, I was a little home sick." she offered with an embarrassed grin. It elicited a chorus of 'aw's' from Brittany and her mother. Ray laughed at his girls, some things never changed.

"Oh Brittany, sweetheart, that reminds me." Valerie began, "I bumped into Daniel last week, he's single again." she stated with an obvious undercurrent in her tone. Santana glanced at Brittany awaiting explanation.

"He was my boyfriend in High School." she said, feeling no need to elaborate further.

"He'll be on a business trip here in New York next month, I gave him your address and your number, told him to get in touch." the elder Pierce announced triumphantly.

"What?" Brittany burst, "Mom, why?" she huffed with exasperation. Santana was unsure where to look, how to react. She took another sip of her wine feeling very uncomfortable.

"He's single, you're single. You've both grown, changed, you never know, he could be the one."

"Mom, how do you know I'm not dating anyone?" the blonde glared at her mother, hoping to anyone who would listen above her mother would not pick up on her hasty question. Brittany's father could feel the tension and interrupted, hoping to defuse the situation.

"Val, dear, I don't think we should be meddling in Brittany's love life like this. She's old enough to make her own decisions." Ray stated with honesty, sensing the unease around the table. The Latina sat motionless, absorbing the words flying about around her.

"Oh come on Ray. They were so in love, destined to be with one another." Brittany sent her father a pleading look of despair.

"Valerie." He warned.

"Ok, ok, just maybe say hi to him, see how things go." she said with a shrug.

"Fine." Brittany seethed through gritted teeth, willing her mother to stop talking. "But I won't be dating him. Ever." Valerie rolled her eyes, knowing how stubborn her daughter could be. The blonde was upset with her mother. What she had with Santana was so incredibly special. Better than anything she had experienced with anyone before. Last night had been the pinnacle and ultimately the promise of what was to come. No one was going to stand in her way of that. She loved Santana completely and while it was new and exciting, she knew it would feel like that with every glance and every touch of the Latina.

"And what about you Santana sweetheart, do you have a boyfriend?" Valerie asked. Her eyes focused on the brunette whose eyes suddenly widened as if she were the older woman's prey.

"Err, no, I don't have a boyfriend." she stated honestly.

"Why not? A pretty, young, talented girl like yourself, I would have thought you would be snapped up." Valerie rambled. Ray sighed, he could see Santana was uncomfortable. Brittany was picking at her food, since his wife had soured the atmosphere considerably.

"Mom!" Brittany exclaimed again.

"Valerie," Ray started, "leave the poor girl alone. It's Brittany's birthday, let's just relax and have fun." he suggested. He was met with an unsure smile from his wife. She nodded in agreement and the four of them finished their meals in silence.

Valerie excused herself from the table, causing it's remaining three occupants to heave a sigh of relief. The tension slowly left their bodies with each step Brittany's mother took. Ray retrieved the napkin from his lap and placed it on the table before taking a sip of his wine. Brittany placed a comforting hand on Santana's thigh under the tablecloth. The brunette picked up the dancer's hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, reassuring the blonde she was coping.

"I'm so sorry San." Brittany apologised profusely.

"Hey, it's ok, I know what mother's can be like." she laughed.

"No." Brittany stated her voice laced with loving tenderness, "You didn't have to hear all that." Brittany's father had watched the whole exchange with interest.

"You have to tell her." Ray said gruffly before clearing his throat. "I know Brittany." The blonde's mouth hung open in disbelief, "The way your eyes light up whenever Santana speaks or when you look at her. I know honey and you know I'm fine with it. I'm so happy you've found someone like Santana who makes you so obviously happy." Ray said. He glanced at Santana. Her eyes were downcast and he could make out a blush across her features. He could also tell she bore a telling grin. Brittany sat beside her, matching grin, her hand obviously clasped around Santana's in the brunette's lap.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you daddy," Brittany began, "it's so new and we thought it would be easier to just introduce Santana as my friend today." she explained, "I don't think I can tell Mom today. It's my birthday. I'm with the people I love the most and I'm so happy right now. I don't want to spoil that." Brittany said, Santana nodded her head in agreement, somewhat relieved she may be avoiding the confrontation with Valerie today after all. Besides, she agreed with Brittany and she'll be damned if anyone spoiled her girl's big day.

"You will have to tell her at some point honey." Ray explained. "I understand how you feel about today, it's your day." he said. He loved and cared for his daughter deeply and his whole life strived to making her happy. He had been unfortunate in not having his parents around when he was growing up and doted on Brittany. He could tell Santana would be good for her. In the little time they had spent together he was impressed by her manors and her kindness. Although, he would keep an eye on her, for his daughter's sake, but he could tell Santana needed Brittany as much as his daughter needed her. There were also too many coincidences in their pasts to ignore, feeling like a greater force had brought them together.

"I need to work on my game face. I'm obviously not as great at acting as everyone says." Brittany shrugged with a smirk.

"I think Santana could easily compete." Ray joked, earning a laugh from the brunette. "You wear your heart on your sleeve sweetheart and that's one of the things I love most about you."

"Me too." the chef stated shyly, just above a whisper. Brittany squeezed Santana's hand impossibly tight, unable to contain her excitement. The brunette's eyes bulged and quickly filled with pain, a sight that Brittany was now all too familiar with. Dropping her clutch on the brunette, Brittany began to panic in true apologetic Brittany style.

"Oh babe, I'm so so sorry." she winced as she said it, feeling the pain herself. She lovingly ran a soothing hand over the brunette's back, urging the brief pain to dissipate. "Again." she added shyly.

"It's ok." Santana squeaked.

"What happened?" Ray asked with obvious concern, his brow creased with intrigue.

"San cut her hand last week and it's not healed properly yet and I keep forgetting." Brittany explained.

"I think it's more a case of getting carried away than forgetting B." Santana joked causing the dancer to blush in the presence of her father.

"What are you guys laughing at?" Valerie asked as she plonked herself back in her seat with a satisfied sigh. Three pairs of eyes looked questioningly at one another. Brittany cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

"Nothing Mom. You want dessert?"


	9. Unholy Trinity

I.

The week had flown by in very much a blur. When they say 'New York minute', it is absolutely true. The pace is incredible, everything happens quickly, everything happens now. However, it was also the longest week either girl felt like they had ever endured. Brittany's birthday weekend felt like an eon ago. The afternoon following the meal had been less than eventful, Brittany's parents would be in town for two more nights before returning to Lima, Ohio. Valerie was keen to spend as much time with the birthday girl as possible, Ray and Santana both bystanders in a mother's quest to spoil her only child. The dancer had enjoyed the afternoon spent with the people she loved most, her parents and her girlfriend. She was overjoyed that Valerie had taken to Santana, smitten with the dazzling personality of the Latina who was working her hardest to impress the older woman. She offered cooking tips, new recipe ideas and the secret to a perfect Thanksgiving Dinner.

The evening rounded off with drinks at a quiet cocktail bar off the beaten track near to the Pierce's hotel. Following a couple rounds of drinks and a series of farewells, Santana proceeded to walk the birthday girl home. Linked arm in arm, they enjoyed the spring evening, revelling in each other's company, somewhat relieved to be alone again. The day had been crazy and overwhelming for the brunette, yet she persevered for Brittany's sake and even began to enjoy herself. Upon reaching Brittany's block, the blonde gingerly invited Santana up to her apartment where they continued to laugh and talk into the night. With it also being Easter, the girls took advantage, divulging in chocolate and cake until they overdosed. Having been cuddled up on the sofa, caresses and smooches eventually had them wrapped in one another's arms in the comfort of Brittany's bed. Sleep, however, was not an immediate option as hands and lips began to explore each other's bodies as if for the time. The touches were tender and intimate, remnant of the actions from the previous night. It was sweet, loving and ultimately everything both had come to expect with each other. It was the perfect end to the perfect weekend.

Santana lay on the sofa with her feet in Brittany's lap, the blonde gently stroked the bare legs of the brunette. Santana had arrived at the blonde's apartment several hours ago and neither wasted any time in tearing the other's clothes off, so desperate to touch each other after a tumultuous week apart. They had laid satiated in a post coital state, limbs tangled, hair in disarray, listening to laboured breathing and pulsating heart beats. And Santana's growling stomach which earned an adorable giggle from the blonde. She leaned over, capturing Santana's lips with her own, instantly seeking accesses with her tongue, eager to distract the other woman from her obvious hunger. The brunette moaned into the kiss, her hands busy, pulling the dancer flush against her body, the cool sheen of perspiration a welcome contrast to the hot stickiness from moments earlier. Santana lazily responded to Brittany, swirling her tongue in the blonde's mouth, duelling with the dancer's own tongue, their lips gliding over one another. A repeat performance excited the blonde tremendously and she had every intention of delivering.

The dancer lay fully against her lover, pinning her to the mattress. Santana ran her finger nails up and down Brittany's bare sides as the blonde snaked a hand between their bodies. Venturing lower, the dancer could not resist the feel of Santana once again, it was like an addiction. With little warning, she thrust two fingers into the already wet brunette, the inviting juices urged Brittany on. Santana gasped at the contact, momentarily releasing her lips from the blonde. However, she reattached herself, kissing the dancer with an added fervour. Her legs widened, pulling Brittany impossibly closer, their breasts rubbing against each other as Santana began to rock against her girlfriend's rhythm. Santana arched her back, urging Brittany to enter her deeper, harder. The blonde obliged, sensing the chef's need. She worked Santana's clit with her thumb, massaging it, tweaking it, pinching it, causing her girlfriend to buck against her own hips. Brittany moved to straddle one of the brunette's legs, desperate for her own contact. She hissed as Santana thrust her thigh upwards, the friction causing a delight to the senses. Ever mindful of her girlfriend's desires, the brunette manoeuvred her own hand down and swiftly into the blonde's heat. She quickly synced her pace with Brittany's, working her into a frenzy. Brittany's forehead dropped against Santana's shoulder as she pumped her fingers in and out of the brunette. Santana could feel her girlfriend was close, her own muscles clenching tightly around Brittany's fingers, they were both so close. In unison they burst, the crescendo riding high before cascading. Blue eyes penetrated brown, a magnitude of emotions silently communicated between the two, each baring their souls to the other. So raw and exposed, so heart warming and true. Brittany collapsed onto her lover, unable to move another muscle. "I love you." she strained to hear the affection of the other girl, her whole body buzzing and alive with electricity, yet completely drained and void of energy. She managed a lazy smile, her nose tickling Santana's neck. She kissed it sweetly, feeling Santana's arms tighten around her waist. "I love you too."

Santana didn't want to move, she was so content and blissful. Being near Brittany had an incredibly calming effect on her, particularly after being so intimate. She could have happily stayed in bed, in fact, she would have preferred that as her limbs and eyes were both heavy with sleep. However, her stomach had other ideas and Brittany decided pizza was the way to go. She had post sex munchies and nothing satisfied her more than a huge pepperoni pizza. She had quickly learned it was also Santana's favourite topping, making the blonde fall for her just a little bit more, if it was even possible.

Brittany continued to stroke the smooth tan legs, her eyes following her fingers with a satisfied smile. There was a knock at the door, causing the brunette to lift her head from the cushion. "San, can you get that? It'll be the pizza." Brittany said, her voice hoarse from lack of use. She had suggested she would fix the drinks whilst the brunette collected the food as it was the chef's domain. Santana rolled her eyes, pizza in a box was hardly her thing, but she leaned up and kissed the cute blonde. The Latina swung her bare legs off Brittany and stood, straightening out her t-shirt and running a hand through her hair. Her bare feet slapped lightly against the hardwood floor as she approached the front door. Without looking through the peep hole, she flung it open before frowning. The guy before her, messy, mousy brown hair, brown eyes and dressed in a shirt and chinos stood, his mouth hung open, his brow furrowed.

"You don't have pizza." Santana stated confused.

"Err nooo." he replied with equal bewilderment, "Does Brittany Pierce live here?" Santana frowned, wondering who would be asking for her girlfriend at this time of the evening.

"Who are you?" the chef asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. Her hand remained on the handle of the door, ready to close it instantly should she feel the need. Her stomach growled, disappointed by the lack of food. Santana shrugged when the guy looked at her questioningly. "Well?" she repeated upon receiving no response. Something about the guy irked the Latina. Here he was, dressed like a prep boy, at 8.30 in the evening asking for her girlfriend.

Obviously nervous under the brunette's stare, the visitor stuttered as he began to speak. He was wringing his hands in anticipation. "I . . . I'm . . ." he began, something distracted him and he looked beyond Santana into the apartment.

"Danny?" Brittany shrieked from behind the brunette. Santana's shoulders slumped, realising she was standing before the blonde's high school sweetheart, her first love and the blonde seemed excited to see him.

"Brittany!" the guy replied, stepping over the threshold, shoving Santana to the side. The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and stared incredulously at the intruder. Her eyes bore into the back of his head _'oh no you didn't'_ echoed in her head. "You look amazing, your Mom said you had blossomed, but wow, you're even more beautiful than I remember." He and Brittany found themselves wrapped in an embrace, the blonde trying to keep some air between them. Santana could only watch as the guy pawed her girl. She stalked closer, disliking and distrusting the guy instantly.

"Ok, break it up." she called, Brittany's eye's found Santana's and offered an apologetic smile, "this isn't some scene from Grease." The blonde pulled away from Danny, avoiding his gaze, she stood closer to Santana, appreciating the closeness of her girlfriend.

"I love that movie. My Mom named me . . ."

"Yadda yadda, I'm sure it's a really interesting story, but I don't care." the Latina spat.

"San, this is . . ."

"Danny, Daniel, whatever. Got it." The brunette sighed with boredom. She folded her arms again and sent another evil stare toward the Lima boy. Brittany ignored the obvious discomfort of the brunette and continued with her introductions.

"This is Santana," Brittany linked an arm through the brunette's who rewarded her with a warm smile, "she's my," the blonde paused for a moment, "friend." Santana turned her head to the dancer and looked at her disbelievingly, Brittany winced as she saw the hurt cross Santana's brown eyes before the chef shrugged her off. "She's a chef. She's been on TV." Brittany's enthusiasm was waning with Santana's obvious mood. The chef snorted. "She's amazing." Brittany gushed with pride.

"And you're expecting pizza?" Danny replied sceptically.

"Yes we are having pizza."

"Santana likes a day off sometimes from cooking, she does it a lot." Brittany explained.

"That's right." the brunette sing songed, "Me and Britts here were having a little quiet time on our only day off together this week and I'm pretty sure you weren't invited." she said sternly.

"San." Brittany warned. Santana huffed again, moving away from the former sweethearts and made her way back to the living room, plopping herself down onto the sofa, imitating a petulant child. Brittany followed with Daniel in tow, she sat next to Santana, slightly embarrassed by her irrational behaviour. She sent a stern look toward the brunette who in turn rolled her eyes before silently conveying an apology.

"Sit down Dan." Brittany instructed, pointing toward the unoccupied chair opposite. He tentatively moved toward the chair and sat on the edge.

"I don't want to intrude." he offered weakly, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Really?" Santana let slip, wincing as she felt her girlfriend's eyes on her. "I should go." the brunette said, she pulled herself up from the sofa. "You two obviously have a lot to catch up on." Upon reaching the door she turned back to the room, her eyes set on Daniel. "Send my regards to Valerie." she said bitterly. The words clearly aimed at her girlfriend. Brittany was bewildered and jumped up from the couch immediately, offering her guest an apologetic smile.

"I'll be right back." she offered. Sighing, Brittany hastily continued her path in Santana's dust.

Reaching the brunette in the hallway, she grabbed a handful of the chef's t-shirt and spun her around to face her. Santana had never seen Brittany angry before, the brunette's eyes were wide and she actually feared the words that would come from the blonde's mouth. Surprisingly, the tone was softer than she was expecting, "Santana, please stay." the fact Brittany had used her full name was warning enough that the blonde was displeased, however, the soft hand that had found it's way into her own told her the dancer genuinely wanted her to stay. Santana's features softened as she took in the turmoil behind the blue gaze. Santana was suffering with her own internal struggle. She could feel the cogs turning in her head, her jaw was set. In the other room was Brittany's newly single ex high school boyfriend and judging by his greeting, he was hopeful of a reunion. Santana knew Brittany's heart belonged to her, but she did not want to sit and watch while this stranger hit on her girl, busting in on their date.

"I can't Britt, you know I can't." she vocalised sadly.

"I love you." Brittany stated with loaded simplicity.

"I know babe." Santana started with a sad smile, "I love you too." she added a gentle squeeze to the hand in her own for emphasis.

"Then stay." the dancer stated. To her it was plain, so easy. "I've barely seen you since my birthday. I need you San." Brown eyes drifted down, she could feel the well of emotions stirring around her heart, threatening to flood the unshed tears. Looking up, she never saw such pleading through a gaze. "Please, we've had the most amazing evening so far. I don't want it to end like this."

"Ugh." the brunette conceded, unable to refuse the blonde with a pout like that. "Fine." She smirked as memories of the previous few hours flooded her mind.

"There's just one more thing you should know." The dancer said shyly, swaying slightly on the spot. Santana raised an eyebrow with uncertainty and trepidation.

"Of course there is." she smiled ironically.

"My Mom is like in the same Church group as his Mom." Santana narrowed her eyes, snatching her hand back she folded her arms across her chest, she knew where this was headed. Brittany had only introduced Santana as a friend and that hurt like hell. Now she knew why. "Can you not like say anything about us?"

"Seriously Britt?" the chef asked, her stern stance was an attempt to intimidate the blonde.

"I need to tell her in my own time."

"But she knows about you. I don't understand." Santana stated, regretting the last three words as she watched Brittany's face fall with disappointment. Dropping her arms and shaking her head at her own faux pas, she reached out to take Brittany's hand. "I mean . . ." the blonde refused contact.

"I know what you meant." the blonde said.

"Brittany, please, I didn't mean it to sound like that."

"Is everything ok out here?" Both girls turned their heads upon hearing Daniel's voice.

"Yeah," Brittany said, "I'll be right there, just give us a sec." Daniel nodded with a smile and returned to his place in the living room. The blonde returned her attention to Santana, who was now slipping on her pumps. "You're leaving." Brittany's flat tone was disappointed and resonated resign. She could see Santana had made up her mind, and as stubborn as the chef was, she was not going to back down this time. Running was the easier option. "Santana."

"Don't make this any harder Britt." Santana replied, "you need to go and sort out whatever that is in there. If I can't be allowed to love you then I can't be here. Your parents are one thing Britt, I get that, I really do, but he wants you back and you're pretending I'm nothing to you. That hurts." The brunette opened the front door, the pizza guy standing the other side, hand raised to knock. "Here." She handed over a couple of notes before taking the pizza box. Turning to Brittany, she handed over the food. "Enjoy the pizza." she said before turning to the open door. "I'll call you." were her parting words. Brittany swiped at the tears on her cheek as she watched the wooden door close after her girlfriend.

II.

Disappointed would sum it up perfectly. Upset would also be a good word to describe how she was feeling. But deflated just about summarised the blonde's current state. Taking one last look at the closed front door of her apartment, she turned her slumped shoulders back towards the living room. She had a guest to entertain and pizza to eat before it cooled. But suddenly, she wasn't hungry any more. Brittany gave herself a mental pep talk, and stood tall, plastered a smile across her face before re-entering the living room. She placed the box on the table and opened it wide. "Help yourself." she said, less than enthused.

"Is everything ok Britt?" Daniel asked, his eyes soft with concern.

"Everything's fine." she replied, emotion dead in her eyes. Daniel shrugged and took her word, he leaned forward and took a slice of the pizza. Santana's favourite pizza. Brittany proceeded to the sofa, taking a seat, shifting uncomfortably as she retrieved the object she had sat on. Santana's cell phone. She sighed heavily, knowing one way or another she would be seeing the brunette again tonight and now she had the perfect excuse. Swiping her finger over the screen, she saw a new picture staring back at her. Ray had taken the photograph in the restaurant the previous week at Brittany's birthday lunch. Santana was laughing hysterically at something Brittany had said, grabbing a hold of her arm whilst the dancer looked at her lovingly with a wide smile and bright blue eyes. It was perfect.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Daniel asked, pizza tumbling about his mouth. It was one of Santana's pet hates, people talking with food in their mouths. She frowned and shook her head.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, placing the handset on the coffee table in front of her.

"Your Mom said I should come see you while I was in the City, she said you might be interested in going on a date or something." he replied with a hopeful smile.

"My Mom said that?" Brittany asked, enraged by the audacity of her mother. Without waiting for a response she continued. "But why did you come? You could have said no."

"Are you for real Brittany? Have you seen you?" Daniel said, swallowing the remnants of his food. "You're totally hot, I mean you were hot in high school, but now you're just banging." he said.

"Is that all I am to you?" She asked, curious.

"No, no," he started back peddling, "Of course not. I mean we were so good together you and I, we ruled the school."

"We're not in school anymore." Brittany stated. "Do you remember why we broke up?" the blonde asked. She was intrigued to hear Daniel's side of the story, she had not spoken to him since they had parted.

"Yeah, you moved away, you didn't want to be in Lima any more and I got a real good job." Brittany scoffed, Daniel could be a salesman in any city, but Brittany could not be a performer in Lima, she had given him every opportunity to go with her, but he was a home boy and he wasn't going anywhere.

"We grew apart Danny, we wanted different things," she began, "I wanted to dance and sing and see more of the world, you wanted to stay at home with your parents in Lima, it was never going to work."

"I can move, I'll move to New York." Daniel said quickly with desperation. Having spoken with Valerie about Brittany and learning of her success, he was eager to meet up with the dancer again and hopeful of a romantic reunion.

"For what?" the blonde asked.

"For you." he stated. Brittany sighed, this was not going the way she had hoped. He was talking about moving to New York already and she had not even shown the slightest bit of interest in him. She wanted to know what he was thinking, how it had come to this after so long. She also knew she would have to let him down gently, for his temper was not something he was renowned for keeping so well. There had been several incidents on the football field at school Brittany could instantly recall. _'Damn you Santana Lopez.'_ the blonde thought, having needed the brunette to stay.

"Daniel, it's not going to happen." she said the words before her brain even engaged with what she was saying.

"What?" he asked, startled by the blonde's abruptness. She had never before been so decisive in her actions or her words. "Why?"

"I can't be with you." she started, "I don't feel anything for you, I don't want to go on a date with you." Brittany explained as plainly as she could.

"But your Mom said . . ."

"Don't listen to my Mom." she said with an ironic laugh. "My mother warned me against you once upon a time, remember?"

"Yeah, I do." he said, "Why can't it be like that again?"

"Danny." Brittany said, her head tilted to the side with interest. "If you had not seen my Mom and if she had not said what she did, would you have even thought about me?" she asked. The room filled with silence, Brittany could see that Daniel was thinking clearly about his answer. "That's a no, right?"

"I don't know." he stated, "I hear all the time that you are doing so well. Lima is so proud of you and you're like famous here, you have a billboard in Times Square."

"So you came to see me because I'm making a name for myself?" Daniel shrugged. "That's a yes." scoffed Brittany. So many times she had been burned by people wanting to know her for her fame. She had never expected it from someone who was once in love with her. Santana had never been so prominent in her thoughts as she was now. Never had she missed the brunette more than she did in that moment. "You know I have spent so much time trying to figure out if people are interested in me or the fame. I don't think we can even be friends Danny." she concluded. Daniel stood from his seat and moved over to the space Santana had once occupied. The blonde frowned, unsure of his intentions.

"Come on Britt. We can be together, just let me prove to you I have changed." he all but begged.

"No Danny, I can't." she stated.

"Give me one good reason why!" he demanded, scooting closer to Brittany on the sofa. The blonde inched away, now up against the armrest. Her thoughts remained on her girlfriend, wishing she was wrapped tightly and safely in Santana's arms right at that moment, Brittany cried out.

"I'm in love with someone." she said, "And we're together and so happy, so this, is just never going to happen Danny." Daniel paused and looked at the fear on the blonde's face, he stood, not quite sure where to put himself, embarrassed by his behaviour.

"But your Mom never said . . ."

"My Mom doesn't know." Brittany replied quietly. "Yet."

"Why?" he asked confused.

"Because it's Santana." she stated, risking a look at Daniel. "Santana and I are together."

"Oh." was his reply.

"So yeah, Mom doesn't know yet, but she will." Brittany said positively, now more determined than ever to put her mother straight.

"Is that why you broke up with me, because you're a dyke?" Daniel asked spitefully. "Is that it? You're only going to be dating girls now?"

"Don't say it like that." the blonde said, hurt by the stinging words. "That's not why we broke up, we've been through the reason. And it will only ever be Santana." she smiled, her heart fluttered at the thought of a future with the brunette. It was heart warming and soul enriching. Daniel rounded the coffee table, perching on the sofa, mere inches away from her.

"Are you sure about that? Because maybe you forgot what it was like to be with me."

"Daniel, please, can you go, you're scaring me." Brittany said, cornered by the tall muscular guy.

"Come on Britty, it can be like old times. This is your chance to make your mother happy." he smirked. Brittany frowned, that statement was so wrong on so many levels. He leaned forward, pushing Brittany back, his hands on her shoulders. She could smell the stale aftershave on his sweaty skin. The blonde winced and scrunched her eyes closed, disbelieving this was happening and wishing that she had convinced Santana to stay while also cursing the brunette for being so stubborn. It was the thought of her girlfriend that gave her the strength to shove him backwards, the adrenaline kicking in. Her rage was building and in Brittany, that was a rarity.

"Get out of my home!" she yelled, jumping up from the sofa.

"Britt . . ."

"I don't want to hear it, you've said enough." she said, pacing across the hardwood floor. "And you can tell who the fuck you want, because I don't care, I love Santana and no one is going to get in the way of that."

She heard the front door click shut for the second time that night. Sitting on the sofa, she had her head in her hands. Why had she let Santana run out on her? She needed her more than ever tonight, she needed her girlfriend by her side, but the Latina's head was ruling her heart and she had run. Brittany was hurt, but right now she would do anything to feel the brunette in her arms again, to tell her everything would be alright and to tell her she loved her. Despite the heartache Santana had caused her, Brittany picked up the cell phone that lay on the table. She was going to find her girlfriend. She needed her.

III.

Sam placed a beer on the bar, it had little time to settle before Santana swiped it up and set it to her lips. She was upset, refusing to engage in any light conversation with her work colleagues. It was not the wisest decision to show up at the restaurant. She had walked aimlessly through the streets of New York. The weather was finally turning; it was warm, spring was finally here, yet her heart felt like a cold winter's night, dark and despondent. She closed her eyes and gulped at the thought of leaving her girlfriend with Daniel, Santana was well aware of what people said about first loves. The brunette trusted Brittany implicitly, she had never done anything to make her think otherwise and since meeting, the dancer had been incredibly devoted to the chef. What she found hard to comprehend was the fact Brittany had constantly been open and carefree about who she was and her feelings, never afraid to show Santana how much she meant to her. Yet she was hiding what they had from Valerie, and because of that, from Daniel also. It frustrated Santana. It also upset her, how Brittany felt compelled to hide their relationship when Valerie was aware of her daughter's persuasions. Taking another sip of her beer, she willed the throb in her head and the ache in her heart to disappear.

"Hey." Came the voice from beside her. She looked up into concerned hazel eyes. "Come up to the office." Quinn said and walked away. The brunette picked up the bottle of beer and followed her colleague.

The room was large, a desk, a computer, a bookcase and sideboard adorned the office. Against one wall sat a two seat leather sofa with a coffee table in front of it. Quinn gestured for Santana to take a seat. She sunk into the leather, the material cool against her bare legs. "You have legs." Quinn smirked as she took a seat beside her friend. The brunette cocked an eyebrow, causing the other woman to blush slightly. "I mean . . ." the blonde began.

"I know what you meant." Santana replied, "I'm not usually in the habit of showing them off to my colleagues."

"Why are you here?" Quinn asked gently, she was sat facing Santana, one leg tucked underneath her, an arm rested on the back of the sofa. Santana let out a heavy sigh as if all her troubles rode the expelled hot air. "Is it Brittany?" The chef nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, partly knowing the answer already.

"Not really." Santana shrugged, "But you know, I guess I need to."

"We have progress." the blonde joked, gently nudging Santana's shoulder with her hand, causing the brunette to turn and look at her. She smirked, understanding the manager's joke, only it wasn't.

"Argh." the Latina let out, "I'm just so, so frustrated right now. And she's back there, with her ex boyfriend eating my pizza."

"This is serious." Quinn stated. "You don't share food with anyone." risking a death glare. Instead she received a small chuckle, everyone knew how precious Santana was with her food.

"Touché." Santana grinned. "But seriously, the ex is in town, he wants her back."

"You trust her right?"

"Completely." the brunette replied without hesitation.

"Then what's the problem?" Quinn asked.

"I don't trust him, you should have seen him Q, all wholesome and American, a mother's dream."

"Aha." the blonde said as she rose to her feet, "There lies the problem." she observed. Quinn moved over to the sideboard, picking up the bottle of whiskey, she unscrewed the lid and poured out two glasses.

"Jeez Quinn, you're just a magnitude of clichés." she said, taking the offered glass. Quinn resumed her position on the sofa with a shrug.

"Shut up and drink." the blonde smirked, putting the glass to her own lips. She smiled and sighed feeling the warmth of the amber liquid burn her throat. "That's so good."

"Mmmhmm." Santana agreed, mimicking the restaurateur's actions.

"This all has something to do with Brittany and her Mom doesn't it?" Santana's silence spoke volumes. "She's not happy with you two being together?"

"She doesn't know."

"Oh." Quinn stated with slight surprise.

"Her Dad knows and he's been great, he's an amazing guy." Santana began, "But Valerie is a whole other story."

"So tell me, I have all night." Quinn offered a genuine smile. The chef began her tale, starting from the beginning, how Valerie knew of Brittany's attraction to guys and girls, through to the events of Brittany's birthday lunch, sparing details of the most incredible night of Santana's life. Never before had she felt so connected to someone and essentially because of that, today had been so much harder to swallow. She spoke of the way Daniel had showed up, the blonde's reaction, her own words and how she ended up at the restaurant. Quinn watched her carefully, listened intently and remained silent until the chef had finished. Somewhere in the middle, Quinn had refilled the glasses and placed the bottle on the coffee table before them. Santana looked at Quinn, unable to read her stoic features and took another nervous sip of her drink.

"How would you feel if Sam was in his apartment having dinner with his ex?" the brunette asked thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't care." Quinn snapped, "We broke up." and shrugged.

"What?" Santana gasped in shock, "When? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did and this isn't about me, This is about you." The blonde slurred slightly and pointed at her colleague.

"But . . ."

"No," Quinn cut her off, "it was going nowhere, we're cool, now you Miss Lopez are a jerk."

"Excuse me?" Santana asked, her eyes narrowing.

"You are such a drama queen, I swear you've been hanging out with Kurt too much." The blonde stated bluntly. "You need tough love Santana, I'm not going to panda to your woes." the Latina sat with her mouth agape. "I'm serious San, did you hear any of what you just said?"

"I . . . I . . ." lost for words Santana pondered the scenario again, the events running through her mind. "Shit." she stated simply. "I'm a lousy girlfriend." Quinn didn't say anything, she simply watched as the brunette figured it all out for herself. "The whole time I was thinking about me and how I was feeling, but not once did I consider her." Santana continued, she could feel the tears forming in her eyes, images of Brittany's forlorn features plagued her mind. "I'm so selfish and she's been so patient and understanding with me. I suck. I actually suck."

"You don't suck Santana, you just need to see it from her perspective. How do you think she felt when you ran out on her, leaving her to deal with the ex on her own?"

"I can't do this." Santana shook her head violently from side to side, "Why can't I do this?"

"You can do this San, come on, pull yourself together." Quinn nearly yelled.

"I think I like Kurt's pep talks better." the chef chuckled.

"You just need to talk to her, apologise for being an ass." the blonde was becoming aggressive with her words, the alcohol blurring her senses.

"Why are you insulting me Quinn? Really? What have I ever done to you?" Santana spat.

"You need to realise that Brittany loves you, all of you. But you need to be there for her when she needs you too." The manager said, "Don't pass on something that could be so great." she sighed wistfully. Santana frowned, she knew how Brittany felt about her, that was undeniable, what the Latina needed to realise that the blonde would need her to be the strong supportive one too. However the last statement Quinn made felt off. It was true for sure, but it was obvious and she was far from passing up on a chance to be with Brittany, especially as they were actually together and so far very happy.

"We're not talking about Britt anymore are we?" the chef asked suspiciously. "What's going on Quinn?" The blonde shifted in her seat, the hem of her dress rising with the movement, Santana couldn't help but notice, her eyes lingered a little too long and Quinn noticed, her confidence shifting. She tilted her head to the side, taking in Santana's appearance, the short denim shorts, the soft cotton white v-neck t-shirt. The restaurateur subconsciously licked her lips before taking a sip of the devil's potion. She placed her glass on the table and shifted closer to Santana. The Latina blinked, unsure of Quinn's motives.

"What are you doing?" Santana croaked as Quinn's hand found itself wrapped in the raven locks. "Err Quinn."

"Shh, you need to see how amazing you are Santana." the blonde edged closer.

"Quinn stop." Santana pleaded. "Stop it." she repeated as Quinn's face closed the gap between them. The Latina put out a hand, warding off the encroaching blonde. It all happened simultaneously in slow motion; as Quinn lurched forward, the door to the office opened and Santana's only out was to throw herself off the couch. She landed ungracefully with a thud on the floor.

"Santana?" the voice floated through the air from the door settling uncomfortably with the brunette. Never before had silence been so deafening.


	10. Stripped

**A/N: I realise it has been some time since the last update and for that I apologise, I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to you all for your reviews and alerts 3 each one of you :)**

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><p>Stripped.<p>

Laid bare.

Waiting. And waiting. Time ticked by, the second hand on the clock hammering intensely, every second felt like a minute. Heavy pounding hearts contradicting the rhythm of the clock. A trinity, beating in unison. Waiting.

The tension in the air was palpable. Three pairs of eyes darted around the room, unsure of where to look, who to look at, how to perceive the situation. Santana sat awkwardly on the floor, Quinn on the couch, head hung in shame, suddenly sober and facing the stark reality of the situation. It was the person in the doorway who stood with purpose and clarity, reading the situation as it was.

"It's not . . ." Santana began, her voice breaking the eerie silence.

". . .what it looks like?" the sentence was completed for her. The Latina closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, willing her heart to slow.

"It's true." Quinn spoke, quietly, yet with purpose. "It's my fault, I came on to her, I misread the signs."

"Signs?" Santana blasted, finally finding her feet and her steady voice. "There were no signs." she concluded, hands placed firmly on her hips.

"You got me drunk, you told me you couldn't do it any more." Quinn shrugged, "what was I supposed to think?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Santana asked with exasperation.

"Stop yelling." the calm voice silenced the room once again. Santana's gaze followed the tone, her frown saddened. "Your girlfriend is downstairs." the brown eyes shot up, holding Kurt's accusing stare. "Exactly." he said, as if reading her mind. What if Brittany had been the one to climb the stairs, what if the interruption had been a moment or two later? So many questions, so much pressure yanking on the Latina's heartstrings. She knew nothing had happened, that she did not want anything to happen and it was all Quinn, yet she could not help feeling guilty for getting herself into the situation in the first place.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly to no one in particular.

"Brittany's upset, Santana." Kurt stated impatiently from the door.

"What? Why?" The brunette asked, panicked. She knew the blonde had been upset with her when she left Brittany's apartment, that was apparent, but she had not been expecting to see or hear from Brittany again that evening, they both needed some time alone to take things into perspective. The Maitre D shrugged.

"She wouldn't say." he replied nonchalantly.

"Send her up." Quinn stated, earning a puzzled look from the Latina. "I'll follow you down Kurt. You two can have some privacy. I owe you that much." the blonde said, a small apologetic smile tugging at her lips. Kurt turned and vacated the room, leaving two very guilty looking women alone.

"I . . ." Quinn began.

"Don't." Santana started, shaking her head. "This is such a mess. Why is everything so fucked up?" she asked, her eyes and fists raised to the ceiling in frustration.

"Are you going to tell her?" Quinn asked curiously, slightly nervous.

Santana cocked her head to the side, eyeing her friend with wonder and bemusement, one hand on hip while the other gesticulated wildly. "What, that I spilled my heart out to you over a disagreement I had with my girlfriend and instead of offering advice you came on to me?"

"She came on to you?" Two heads shot toward the voice at the door where a forlorn looking Brittany stood. "You left your phone." she stated simply, holding out Santana's phone in her hand. The Latina's features softened, taking in the bewilderment of the blonde.

"I should go." Quinn said, as she started to move toward the door. She slowed apprehensively as she realised she needed to round Brittany in order to make her exit.

As Quinn approached tentatively, the tall blonde shook her head. "Nu uh." she said with steel grit. Her eyes were wild with something, Santana had a difficult time recognising the look in the blue orbs that were always so loving and playful. The dancer calmly closed the door behind her, the atmosphere in the room was tense. Quinn looked to Santana questioningly, silently begging for answers the brunette did not have. The Latina herself was beginning to quiver with fright, having never witnessed the blonde in such a state before. "I want to hear it." Brittany said with an eerie calmness. Santana opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off from her girlfriend, a hand held up for emphasis. "No, San, I want to hear it from her." Brittany cocked her head to the side, folded her arms across her chest, phone still clasped tightly in her fist and waited. Quinn shot another look toward Santana who just shrugged, she too crossed her arms, awaiting the response.

"Brittany, I am so sorry." she began with a sigh. "I was drunk, I was emotional, I just broke up with Sam and Santana seemed upset too . . ."

"So that gives you free reign over my girlfriend?"

"She said she couldn't do it anymore!" Quinn shot back, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth. Santana was vehemently shaking her head when Brittany's wide eyes reached her.

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant." the Latina clarified defensively. The blonde's blue eyes were now narrowed, waiting for elaboration. Santana sighed. Why did everything have to be so complicated. "I just," she began. Another sigh. Santana formulated her words in her mind. "B, I was frustrated with the whole situation. I love you so much and I just want to be able to show it all of the time. I just can't deal with difficult mothers and asshole ex boyfriends. I just want it to be us Britt." Brittany's frown slowly turned into a shy smile, the words penetrating her mind and her heart, any doubt she had before about Santana's feelings seemed to be long gone.

"What about her?" the dancer asked, nodding her head toward the sheepish restaurateur.

"We work together," Santana said catching the hazel gaze. "I thought we were friends." Quinn rolled her eyes, angry for making a fool of herself.

"I said I'm sorry." she began. "How many times do you need to hear it?" she stalked toward the door not waiting for an answer. "I'll leave you guys alone." she stated. Brittany sidestepped allowing Quinn an escape root. Two pairs of eyes followed her until the door clicked shut again.

Santana shifted her gaze to her girlfriend who started to look weary on her feet. A note of worry etched on her features. The brunette frowned and stepped closer to the blonde, concerned by her appearance. "B, what's wrong?" she asked, placing her hands on Brittany's upper arms, gently rubbing up and down, encouraging the blonde to speak. Her eyes searched the blue orbs before her, searching for any tell tale sign. She knew Brittany was upset, when realization dawned on her. "Did Daniel do something?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. When the dancer's eyes dropped, Santana knew she was right. "What did he do?" she asked. Ever the impatient one, she tried again, "Britt, please talk to me." she stated, "What did he do?" she asked more gently. Brittany's eyes met her own once again, the cool blue now shimmering with unshed tears. "Babe." Santana's plea was enough for a confession.

"He tried to . . ." began Brittany, unable to spit the words out. "He . . ."

"Did he touch you?" Santana asked, her eyes trained on the blue ones before her. Brittany sighed, she motioned over to the coffee table where Santana's tumbler lay, a rich golden liquid clung to the sides of the glass begging to be drank. Santana smiled a little and pulled the blonde over to the couch where she and Quinn had sat earlier. The chef handed the blonde the half full glass who proceeded to down the warm liquid with one gulp. "Hey," Santana said, taking the glass from the blonde as she swiped at her lips with the back of her other hand. "I think that belongs to me." the brunette giggled, taking her phone that was still in the blonde's hands. Brittany smiled, flexing her newly freed fingers. "Tell me Britt." Santana said soothingly, pulling the dancer into her side.

The blonde regaled the tale of the evening, how her own mother had set her up, Daniel's forceful nature, his desire to be with the blonde again and willingness to move to the city. Her last words would haunt Santana, "and then he had me cornered on the sofa and I told him I was with you and that I love you, but he didn't stop. He wouldn't stop talking and as he was talking, planning our future he was forcing me down with his hands. He was pushing me down and climbing on top of me." With every word Santana could feel the anger within bubble. "I managed to push him off, I don't know how, it all happened so fast." She was angry with Daniel, angry with Brittany's mother, but she was also angry with herself for walking out on the blonde when she so obviously needed her. "Don't." Brittany said forcefully after a couple minutes of silence. Santana's silence spoke of her confusion. "Don't punish yourself. None of it is your fault."

"If I had been there, he wouldn't have done that."

"San," the blonde said, she swivelled in her seat and faced her girlfriend, never before had she looked so serious.

"What if you hadn't found that strength Britt? What then? We would be having an entirely different conversation, hell, we might not even be having one at all." the Latina fumed with frustration. She moved to get up, her restless legs willing her to move. However Brittany had her pinned down.

"No San." Brittany said sternly, her eyes seeking out the brunette's attempting to calm her down. The blonde's mind drifted, sidetracked, Santana's 'what if' question played on her own mind. What if she had not turned up to the restaurant, or if she was a moment or two later. What if Kurt had not have interrupted Santana and Quinn. Blue eyes dropped, looking away from the Latina, a frown formed on her brow causing Santana to question her sudden change in emotion.

"Britt?" Santana asked cautiously, causing the blonde to look up slightly. The chef watched the emotions flick across the normally crystal clear blue eyes. The brunette, cocked her head slightly, silently reading the other woman's thoughts, her mouth opened to speak, however her throat restricted as tears threatened to spill from her own eyes. Never before had one woman stirred so much emotion inside of her. She loved Brittany, there was no question about it. However she had always been protective of her own heart. Being an only child and often left to her own devices had taught her that. It was instilled within her. So at the first sign of aggravation in their relationship, Santana did what she knew best. She ran away from the situation, leaving Brittany to deal with it on her own. She had fallen into the boozy trap Quinn had set for her, admitting it would be easier to walk away from the problem than dealing with it head on. "Brittany?" she asked again tentatively, her voice cracking with the sadness she saw in the dancer's eyes. "I love you Brittany Susan Pierce." Santana whispered. "I love you and I want to be with you."

"You have to show me Santana." Brittany replied, her head tilting sideways, her own tears spilling from her eyes. "You can't run away every time you don't like something, or someone."

"Hey, turns out I had very good reason to not like him." Santana defended quickly. "Sorry." she stated upon receiving a curt glance from her girlfriend. "I get that, I do. I'm learning here Brittany. I've never felt so completely helpless, I've always been in control of my own feelings and you come along and do this to me." she said pointing at her tears with a warm smile.

"I'm not going to apologise for loving you, or for you loving me." The blonde stated with an earnest simplicity. Santana's lip quivered at the sentiment. She had to fix this little rift that had formed between them, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and she could not blame her insecurities. This was real. What she had with Brittany was beyond any bond she had formed with anyone in her entire life, and looking past her own fears, she could see a future with the blonde and she wanted it more than anything and that also scared her. But if today had taught her anything, it was to face your fears, take them on and defeat them. She had accomplished it once when she moved to Europe all on her own as a young apprentice, and several other times along the way. If she could not do it now with Brittany, she would lose her and above all else, that scared her the most. Taking a deep breath, she picked up Brittany's hand in her own, observing the patterns of the small lines, her thumb tracking the contours and admiring the smoothness of the skin beneath.

"I don't want you to apologise." she began. "None of this is your fault. I've constantly made this about me and it's not. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that your mother has a hard time accepting you for the amazing, incredible person you are because that must hurt and at no point did I stop to consider that. She loves you Britt, I can see that, she adores the way you dance, she's incredibly proud of you and what you've become. But to not be able to handle the truth about who you love must be crippling." she watched as the tears silently slid down her girlfriend's face. Santana tenderly reached up with her free hand and wiped at the tear tracks on the blonde's cheeks. "Shhh." the brunette cooed. She shifted slightly in her seat and pulled her girlfriend into her side, holding her close. "I love you Brittany, I'll never walk out on you again." she promised, emphasising her words with gentle caresses and sweet kisses. Swallowing the lump in her own throat, she added, "I will always be here for you."

"She likes you." Brittany sniffled after a few moments of comfortable silence. Santana's mind raced, her thoughts immediately picked out Quinn. She wondered just where the dancer was heading with the statement. "My Mom." The blonde concluded. "She likes you, she always mentions you when we talk on the phone." A smile tugged at the brunette's lips.

"Then we're half way there." Santana stated proudly. "We'll tell her together and it helps that your Dad already knows and is cool with us." She smiled, "He will be an amazing buffer." the Latina concluded with a wink.

"Thank you." replied Brittany. She sat up, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. She leaned closer to Santana, closing the agonising gap between them and placed a gentle kiss upon her girlfriend's inviting lips. "I love you Santana." she said against the brunette's lips before capturing them again. It was a slow, loving kiss, lips gliding easily over one another, conveying apology and promise emphasising earlier words. Santana sighed with satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed, never tiring of feeling the blonde's lips upon her own. She ached to taste her girlfriend and slipped her tongue with ease, through Brittany's slightly parted lips and into the other woman's waiting mouth. Their tongues found one another, battling in a lazy dual causing both women to occasionally moan with pleasure. Her arms wrapped around the blonde, clinging to her tightly, never wanting to let go. Santana gasped at the realisation she could have been so close to losing this, to never feel Brittany upon her again. With fervour, she kissed Brittany like there was no tomorrow. Brittany whimpered at the ferocity Santana's lips were attacking her, gasping eagerly for breath, only gaining a respite when the brunette untangled their tongues and dislodged her lips to assault the dancer's gracious neck.

"San." Brittany moaned as Santana sucked on her pulse point. Taking it as encouragement, the Latina continued her oral assault. "Mmm Santana." The blonde protested.

"Shhh," began the brunette, who's hands had found their way under the dancer's t-shirt. "Less talking, more macking." she ordered. Her lips found Brittany's collar bone. The blonde giggled, Santana's lips tickling her.

"San," she tried again to gain the chef's attention, "baby, stop, please." she gently nudged her girlfriend backwards and smiled adoringly at her dishevelled state. Santana's hair was wild where Brittany's hands had mussed it up, her eyes heavy lidded, her lips swollen and pouting. Brittany could quite happily gaze at the other woman all day.

"This better be good." Santana mumbled.

"As much as I want to get revenge on Quinn for hitting on my girl, I'm not going to have sex with you, not here in her office, not now, not like this." Brittany stated. The brunette frowned before nodding her head, her libido would have to wait. Brittany was right, Quinn's couch would be all kinds of wrong. Besides, her girl was much classier than that.

"Fair point." Santana nodded. "But for the record, you're super hot and you're getting super lucky tonight."

"Oh I count on that." giggled the blonde. "Give me your phone." she stated suddenly, yet excitedly. Santana narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowed and the lines on her forehead indicated her confusion. Still entangled with the blonde, she struggled to reach into her pocket before pulling the device free of it's confines. Santana handed it back to Brittany without question, only intrigue. She watched as Brittany's eyes lit up the moment the phone did, "I love this picture." the blonde said as she saw the image again, for the umpteenth time that day. On her way over to the restaurant she had constantly stared at it, smiling goofily and becoming teary the closer she physically got to the restaurant and nearer to her girlfriend. Santana smiled, she too loved the picture and was planning of having a copy printed for her bedside very soon.

"Me too." Santana sighed. "We're making memories Britt." she smiled happily, hugging the blonde into her side with an extra squeeze.

"I don't think I want to ever think about today again." The blonde surmised. "Not all of it." she added. Santana took a deep breath, she certainly had not made things easy for her girlfriend that day. What had begun as an incredible afternoon, entangled in one another, embroiled in a hotbed of love and passion. It was the perfect way to spend a day off. Little did they know the course the day would take. How emotions would be turned on their head, feelings questioned and third party advances made. "Things are so much simpler when it's just you and I."


	11. Las Madres

A/N: For Lizzy and thank you to my good friend frognutter who helped me figure a few things out on this chapter and also came up with the title.

Also a HUGE thank you to all of you who have stuck with this and read it, review it, favourite it and add it to alerts I 3 you immensley!

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><p>Mothers. They are the first person we ever have a connection with. We live within them for nine months. They go through excruciating pain to experience the most magical moment of their lives and the result is you. A little bundle of joy to love and to cherish for as long as you both shall live. Even beyond. That is how it is supposed to be. They nurture you, teach you, educate you, shape you into the human being you are to become. They are your family. Everyone is unique and ultimately families exist in all manner of combinations.<p>

You grow up, you form opinions, you form attachments to people and to different ideals. You make your own choices, you pay your own prices, you bask in your own successes and dwell on your own misfortune. You may not live the life your Mother imagined, you may not have chosen the ideal career or romantic partner. You may struggle and feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for trying to be happy. Happiness is the one thing your Mother wants for you from the moment you were born. But the reason for one person's happiness may be another's disapproval.

For two women alone out of eight million people in New York City, their Mothers could not be more similar and dissimilar at the same time. They love their daughters, yet question some of their life choices; unsettling the family unit, a far cry from those early stages of their child's lives. Yet the two girls in question were able to find one another in a world of seven billion people, and a country of three hundred million people. It would appear these two lives had taken similar paths until they finally crossed on that fateful night.

xoxo

Santana was pottering around her apartment, tidying up, putting things away. Rarely did she have time to just concentrate on home making. She had worked late the previous night, Brittany picked her up before they both made their way to the blonde's home. The chef had returned to her own abode following a hearty brunch and post food cuddles. As much as the blonde had insisted she stayed, Santana joked that her laundry would end up walking itself to the washer if she didn't attend to it soon. Brittany pouted in an attempt to make her girlfriend stay. Two orgasms later, a dishevelled Santana made her way home with a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat.

As the brunette picked up a pile of dirty laundry, her cell phone began to ring. Groaning, she reached awkwardly into her pocket, balancing the clothing against her chest with one arm. All attempts to keep her face out of the pile was futile as she held the phone to her ear, expecting it to be her girlfriend.

"So a whole night and a repeat morning performance not enough for you babe?" she laughed, launching the clothes in her arms onto the bed.

"Too much information Santana Lopez."

"Mom!" exclaimed the brunette, her eyes widening comically. "I, I . . ."

"Was expecting someone else?" her mother finished for her. "As I suspected." she sighed before continuing, "So am I right to assume you've met someone?"

"Err yeah." replied Santana, still slightly stunned that her mother be calling her on a week day. "Mom, why are you calling?"

"Just checking in with my daughter." Eva Lopez replied, "So who is she?" Santana sighed as thoughts of her girlfriend flooded her mind. "She must be someone special, I mean remember the last thing you said to me before you left?"

"Goodbye?"

"Don't be smart Santana."

Santana smirked, she still had a knack of winding up her mother. She was pleased she had not lost that trait. "Ok, ok," she rolled her eyes, hearing the impatient puff of air on the other end of the line, "I said I was coming out here to concentrate on my career."

"And?" the elder Lopez urged.

"And," the young brunette sighed, "No women."

"And may I remind you why you said that?"

"No." Santana answered bluntly.

"I saw her you know." Eva began. "We passed on Rodeo Drive. She was alone. She was such a lovely girl."

"She cheated on me Mom." the chef stressed through gritted teeth. Santana knew that her parents were very fond of her former girlfriend. They had been dating for almost a year, the longest relationship Santana had endured, before she caught her in the arms of another man. It transpired the guy was a former boyfriend who had recently come back to town. They had been secretly seeing one another for four months behind Santana's back, the girlfriend blaming Santana's unsociable working hours for the affair. "It's been two years Mom."

"So you must know how overjoyed I am to hear that you've finally moved on, particularly as you were dead set against any sort of romance." Mrs Lopez beamed. "So, who is she, what does she do and when did you meet her?" she asked inquisitively. Santana knew the subject would not be dropped until she satisfied her Mom with the relevant information.

The brunette sighed in defeat, "Her name is Brittany, she's a performer on Broadway and I met her on the opening night of the restaurant." If Santana could see her mother now she would see her 'I told you so' grin and raised eyebrow. "Don't say a word." the brunette warned.

"You clearly have the wrong impression of me darling." Santana could hear the smirk in her voice. She knew it well, she was her mother's daughter after all.

"Mom," Santana sighed again, despite them frequently clashing over certain things, she did miss the banter she shared with her mother. "I appreciate you looking out for my welfare and your somewhat unhealthy interest in my love life, but please, let me just get on with it. I moved out here for work and, now don't take this the wrong way, to be away from you and Dad. I couldn't handle you interfering the whole time." she said.

"Santana," Eva began.

"Please let me finish," Santana interrupted, "Apart from moving to Europe to train, this move was the best decision I've ever made and it was made because of my career. I love my job Mom, I know you don't understand it, but I love it and because of it, I got to meet the most incredible girl I could ever dream to have met. She's so sweet and beautiful and patient and she loves me for everything I am and encourages me for everything I want to be. It was that day Mom, one day that has changed my life forever and for the first time in forever I am happy. I love my job and I have an incredible girlfriend. All I need now is for you and Dad to accept that I'm a chef. I cook food, I make people happy and I love it. I know you consider it to be a less prestigious job and even training with amazing chefs in Paris and London didn't seem to change your mind. Why can't you understand that it's more than just a job to me?"

"Santana." Mrs Lopez sighed, she had heard the spiel a number of times before. She had always considered a chef someone she would employ and therefore not a good enough job for her daughter. Since birth she had high hopes of Santana following in the family business, become a doctor, or at the very least another highly thought of, highly paid professional. "I, I . . ." it was her turn to stutter, a rarity for the elder woman to be at a loss for words.

"Mom, I've been nominated for a James Beard award."

"I don't know what that is."

"I didn't suspect you would." Santana spat with sarcasm. "It's like a massive awards thing in the industry, Google it." she suggested. "Look Mom, it would mean the world to me if you could come, I got you and Dad tickets."

"Have you won?"

"I don't know yet Mom." the chef replied with frustration.

"When is it?" Eva attempted to sound interested.

"Next weekend."

"Oh well that's too short notice Santana." Eva suggested passively.

"I sent you an email like two weeks ago!" the chef yelled.

"Oh. I did mean to read that." the elder woman admitted. Santana was beyond frustrated, she did not expect anything less of her mother, yet sometimes she hoped, just a little bit that she would at least try. "I'll have a word with your father, but I can't promise anything." Santana sighed in defeat, she knew it was worthless trying to convince her Mom to attend what could be the greatest night of Santana's career to date.

"Britt's going, but she doesn't know I've been nominated. It's a surprise." Santana sounded deflated, "Because you know, she actually cares about what I do."

"Santana . . ." her mother warned.

"It's ok Mom, I understand." The brunette could feel the tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She looked up, willing them to stay where they were. She did not want to cry on the phone to her mother, because of her mother. She had wasted too many tears over her parents already in this lifetime. Just once, she wanted them to be proud of her. "Err listen, I err, I have to go." her voice was straining, she knew she had to hang up the phone before Eva said anything that would tip her over the edge.

"Ok honey, I'll talk to you soon." her mother stated.

"Bye Mom." Santana said and tore the phone from her ear before she could hear the response. She hit the end button and flopped backwards onto the bed.

xoxo

Brittany sang softly as she gathered the sheets from her bed. If Santana was going to do laundry, then so was she, her logic believed that they would be doing the laundry together. She smiled to herself as she recalled exactly why her sheets required changing in the first place. It had been a pleasant evening. She followed her ritual of visiting the restaurant for a drink following her evening performance. Santana met her at the bar when she clocked off and the two decided to meander home, hand in hand in the pleasant spring evening air. With the love birds both having a free morning the next day, they made the most of the time they spent together, embroiled in one another, re-exploring each other's bodies with renewed passion. The past couple of weeks had been exhausting in terms of their work and their relationship and being able to unwind like they did was perfect timing. As Brittany flopped back onto her bed with a satisfied sigh, her cell phone rang. Smiling wistfully and closing her eyes, she lifted the device to her ear.

"Missing me already?" she asked seductively.

"I always miss you dear."

"Mom!" exclaimed the blonde, clearly not expecting her mother's voice to answer.

"Yes of course." Valerie paused for thought, "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Err no?" It came out as a question and Brittany mentally slapped herself for being so obvious. "Anything I can help with you with Mom?" she asked sweetly.

"I'm just calling for a catch up with my daughter." Valerie replied. "So who were you expecting Brittany?" The elder blonde would normally tell her daughter she was not born yesterday, but it was not necessary, Brittany knew her mother better than that.

"Santana came earlier." she cringed at the double entendre. She was not exactly lying.

"I see." Valerie replied. Brittany frowned, something was slightly off with her mother's tone. Usually she would sing Santana's praises, ask how the chef was and how the restaurant was doing. The short reply had the dancer frown with concern. "I saw Daniel at the coffee shop in town yesterday."

"Oh," Brittany sat up immediately, her eyes wide with concern, "you did?"

"Yes, he had some very interesting things to say."

"He did?"

"Yes." Valerie said sharply. "He said I needed to talk to you, that you turned him down because you were dating someone else."

"Arh." The blonde said. She was actually thankful that Daniel had not outted her relationship with Santana.

"So, who is he?" Valerie asked with excitement, "Is it that guy Noah from the show? Or Mike, I know Mike has a soft spot for you." Brittany sighed. It was the same old story. The moment her mother had caught wind of her being in a relationship with someone, Valerie automatically assumed it was a guy. No matter how many times Brittany tried to convince her otherwise, her mother would not accept her daughter was also attracted to women. It was becoming tougher for the dancer to handle.

"Mom, it's not Puck, or Mike, or anyone from the show."

"Then who is it dear, it's not like you have an opportunity to hang out anywhere else, unless it's one of Santana's friends from the restaurant." Brittany rolled her eyes at her mother's ramblings, only she did not stop there. "Oh it is isn't it, is that handsome Matre D fellow or the hunk from the bar?" The blonde stifled a laugh at the possibility of Kurt being her boyfriend.

"No Mom," she sighed, time to bite the bullet. "It's San."

"Sam? Do I know Sam?"

"Not Sam, Mom, San." she let out a breath before continuing. "Santana, I'm in a relationship with Santana and I love her Mom." She was met with silence. "I appreciate you looking out for my welfare and I love you Mom, but Santana makes me insanely happy. I've been so concentrated on my career that I forgot what it was like to really love someone and I know you have difficulty understanding, but please try." Brittany pleaded.

"Brittany," began Valerie.

"Please let me finish Mom, while I can." Brittany stated quietly, yet firmly. "You know that I'm attracted to both men and women and you knew this moment could come. Yes I've dated girls and I've dated guys and I've tried to respect your upbringing and your beliefs. I love her Mom, I know you don't understand it, but I love her and because of it my whole life feels brighter. My performances have been the best they've ever been, my voice is stronger, my dance is on a level I never thought was possible and it's all because Santana's given me that extra confidence and the happiness to succeed. I love my girlfriend and I have an incredible job. All I need now is for you to accept that I'm in love with Santana. I really wanted to tell you this in person. I know you like Santana Mom and I know you love me and just because San and I love each other, it doesn't change who we are, if anything, it makes us better people, because we bring out the best in one another. Please try to understand." Brittany concluded with a sigh. Words were never her strong point, she was always so much better face to face with someone, able to read their emotions and show through her own exactly what she was feeling.

"Brittany." Valerie sighed. In truth she did know that one day Brittany could tell her she had fallen in love with a woman, but for so long, she also knew she could equally fall in love with a man, and it was that hope she clung on to. "I, I . . ." she stuttered, at a loss for words. On some level she knew her daughter's friendship with Santana ran deeper than usual friendships. The way they had interacted with one another on Brittany's birthday had Valerie's suspicions raised slightly, though denial was prevalent within the elder Pierce and had a strong hold over her thoughts. It had not been easy for Valerie, she had tried so hard to understand Brittany's lifestyle, accepting that it wasn't a choice, but who she was. The reality now was Brittany was admitting to being in love and happy with Santana. The dancer had kept her love life low key in the past, never really mentioning anyone she was dating and in some respects not knowing was easier for Valerie to handle. But now it had all changed.

"Mom, Dad knows." Brittany said, biting her lip nervously. "But don't get mad, I wanted to tell you myself."

"You told him and not me?" Valerie spoke with assertiveness.

"No Mom, he guessed and we couldn't deny it. He told me I had to tell you." the young blonde said.

"And you waited until your ex boyfriend told me you weren't interested because you were dating someone else?" Valerie accused, "That's not fair Brittany."

"I know, I'm so sorry it's happened this way, but you totally blind sided me with Daniel!" Brittany accused.

"You knew he was coming to town Brittany, I told you."

"Yes," Brittany sighed, "but you didn't tell me he wanted to get back together with me and was going to physically force himself upon me!"

"He did what?" Valerie asked with shock.

"He forced himself upon me Mom because you told him I was still interested!" the dancer said, her voice cracking with emotion. There was an extended pause on the end of the line.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart." Valerie said audibly deflated.

"You can't interfere with my life like that Mom. If it wasn't for Santana, I don't know what I would have done."

"Did, did she take care of you?" it hurt to say, but Valerie forced it passed the lump in her throat.

"Yes." Brittany stated. "She makes me feel safe and loved."

"Brittany," Valerie began, she took a moment to find her words, "all this is a lot to take in." she admitted. "I do love you Brittany. I, I have to go, I'll call you later in the week." the elder woman concluded.

"Ok Mom." it had been an emotional phone call for the both of them. Brittany knew it was a lot for her mother to handle in one telephone conversation. She was grateful Valerie had Ray to help her. She was unsure if Valerie would call her, her tone had seemed distant and unsure, but Brittany kept her faith. "Bye, I love you."

"Yes dear, goodbye."

xoxo

"Are you crying?" Brittany asked, stunned.

"What?" Santana sniffled, "No. Are you?"

"No." she choked. "I'm not crying."

"You're crying."

"So are you."

"Why are you crying?"

"My Mom." The blonde replied, taking a deep breath. "Why are you crying?"

"My Mom." sighed the brunette.

"Do you need a hug?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Yeah. Hurry up and open the door. I need it now."

Santana bolted toward her front door, skidding in her socks to a stop on the hardwood floor, crashing into the obstacle keeping her and Brittany apart. She fumbled with the lock, her phone lay heavy in her hand, causing another obstruction from the girl she loved. Finally heaving open the door, the blonde fell into her arms, instantly wrapping her arms around the chef's lithe body. "I need this so much."

"You told her?" Santana mumbled into her girlfriend's neck. Brittany's reply was a simple nod. The brunette hugged the taller girl closer to her body, ensuring she knew that whenever and whatever, she would be there for her.

Reluctantly Brittany pulled back, fresh tears appeared in her eyes. Santana smiled sadly at the blonde and reached up to gently wipe away a loose tear. "Do you think we fell in love too quickly?" Brittany asked. Taken aback the Latina frowned and tilted her head, attempting to understand the question she had just heard. Sensing her confusion, the dancer continued. "I mean, we haven't been together very long."

"No, I don't." Santana answered almost immediately. "I mean, I may have taken some convincing, but I was just scared and yeah at first it was all happening too fast, but you can't help your feelings Britt, there's no slow motion or pause button." she shrugged. "What did she say?" the brunette asked suspiciously, referring to Brittany's conversation with her mother.

"Not much, actually." the blonde replied. "Can we sit?" she motioned towards the living room. Santana nodded, took Brittany's hand in her own and guided her through to the couch.

"Are you doubting us?" Santana asked, her voice broken.

"No!" Brittany all but yelled, she threw herself at Santana who let out a shaky breath of relief, the rest of the air being knocked out of her as the blonde pulled her into another tight hug. "No, absolutely not. I'm just trying to see it from outside of us."

"You don't need to Britts." Santana said, she pulled the blonde's hands away and held them in her lap, her eyes trained carefully on the bright blue orbs before her. "The heart knows what it desires. And mine wants yours." she smiled warmly. Brittany too smiled, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. "I know this is still new to us, and we're going to meet challenges, but we'll face them together. You've taught me to open my heart again Brittany after my past and letting my head rule for so long. But you make me insanely happy and that's not something I'm renowned for. I can't tell you happy my Mom is about us." she chuckled. Brittany's eyebrows shot to meet her hairline.

"You told your Mom?" she appeared surprised.

"Yeah." Santana shrugged, "Sort of by accident." Brittany knew of Santana's relationship with her parents and the only reason Santana had not informed them of her relationship with Brittany was because of the shameless gloating she would be privy to. Brittany had mused over how reversed hers and Santana's relationship with their mothers were. "She loved it." the brunette rolled her eyes.

"I wish mine did." Brittany smiled sadly.

"Hey, look, our Moms are like totally opposite, yours is so proud of you and your career but is a little more uptight with your sexuality."

"That's an understatement." muttered the blonde.

"And mine," Santana continued, "thinks chefs are the hired help, but is totally cool with my sexuality. Even if she does meddle too much."

"In that respect they're the same." Brittany giggled. "I told her what Daniel did, she apologised but I think she was secretly pleased you were there for me afterwards."

Santana dropped her head remembering the aftermath of Brittany's encounter with Daniel, and her own misunderstanding with Quinn. The three women had put that incident behind them and the restaurateur was the picture of professionalism and poise having apologised profusely at her behaviour. Santana on the other hand, could not help but feel the anxiety that engulfed her every time Brittany's ex boyfriend's name was mentioned. He had caused all sorts of unsettlement in the first place, particularly after what had happened to Santana in the past. She could not help but feel the same dread that flooded her the moment she had caught her ex girlfriend in the arms of her supposedly former boyfriend. Sensing Santana's discomfort Brittany pulled the brunette into her body.

"Hey," Brittany said softly, her fingers working their way into the silken raven locks on her shoulder, "Santana," she cooed loving the way the Latina's name rolled off her tongue. "I know you know I love you." she cringed at the sudden verbal explosion, no matter how much time she spent with the other woman, Santana had a way of creating waves of excited nervous energy within her. Santana shook slightly against her girlfriend as she stifled a giggle causing Brittany to smile widely. Putting that behind her, she continued, "My Mom makes me think and I don't really like that. But when I think of us, I know it's right. I feel like sometimes I don't even deserve you or that it's like a dream and one day I'll wake up and you'll not be there, I'll never have known you and that makes me sad." Santana hugged Brittany closer, aware the blonde wanted to continue, but wordlessly letting her know she was there. "To quote one of my favourite movies, you had me at hello. Although hello wasn't exactly one of the first words you said to me. But I can't say it better than that and I know it took you time to open up because of things that have happened in the past, but you let me be your friend and I know you don't do that easily or much and that for me is the biggest thing, because then we became best friends and then we became us. I fell so easily in love with you Santana because you gave me you and every day I feel blessed and honoured to have your heart. I see you Santana and even though we have so much to learn about each other, I can't wait." She sighed, "My Mom may find this difficult, but she already sees what an amazing person you are and I know she'll come around."

The words hung in the air for a moment, Santana digested them. She made sure they would stay imprinted on her mind forever, because any tiny elements of doubt or fear she had before were now as good as erased. Brittany constantly showed her and told her exactly what she meant to the blonde and it always gave her the confidence to knock down her own proverbial walls and let the dancer guide them both forward. It felt exhilarating to relinquish such control and although she would often step forward with trepidation, Santana knew it was the right path. Brittany was accurate, what they had was right.

"I love you." Santana stated honestly, lifting her eyes to meet the crystal blue she adored. She placed a peck on the lips she cherished and pulled back, taking a moment to take in the beauty that was Brittany. "What were they?" she asked.

Brittany's brow creased, "What were what?"

"The first words I spoke to you?" she asked curiously, she remembered the very first moment she laid eyes on the blonde, but what the brunette had said was very much a blur.

"Err yeah." the blonde stated.

"What?" Santana asked, puzzled. "What did I say?"

"You said 'Err yeah'." Brittany repeated. "I said, 'Long day?' and you replied, 'err yeah'." the blonde clarified.

"All I remember was your incredible eyes, your beautiful blonde hair and your big smile. And the beer of course." Santana laughed. "Ohmygod you were totally hitting on me."

"Maybe I was hitting on you, it worked didn't it? In the end." Brittany chortled along. "And of course you would remember the beer."

"I was so nervous." Santana reminisced, "Here was this stunning woman sitting beside me, talking to _me_ when I looked like absolute crap." the brunette continued, "I don't usually have conversations like that with strangers, but you made it so easy. You do make everything seem so easy Britts." she gushed. "And I'm so sorry for being so selfish over the whole Daniel and your mother thing."

"Hey," Brittany replied with a shrug as if dismissing the statement, "We've been through this, I know you're sorry and I understand. It's over, ok?"

"Ok." the chef smiled weakly, still feeling pangs of guilt whenever the subject was mentioned. However Brittany had accepted her apology and was keen to move on from the incident. "I could lay here all day with you. I don't want to go to work."

"Are you serious?" Brittany asked, startled. "I have never heard you say you don't want to go to work!" exclaimed the dancer with pure excitement. "It must be love!" she laughed, digging Santana in the ribs teasingly.

"Hey, cut that out." Santana retaliated, she started to tickle Brittany's sides, earning a shriek from the blonde. "You sound like my mother!" she continued her assault on the taller girl, gaining more momentum, she moved to straddle the dancer, her nimble fingers finding each of her lover's sensitive spots.

"Stop it!" shrieked the blonde, "San!" she begged in a high pitched tone. "Please San, I'll do anything!" she blurted causing the brunette to raise her eyebrow.

"Anything?" Santana asked with a smirk.

"Anything." Brittany replied, struggling for breath between laughter.

"You promise?" the brunette asked, her hands speeding up with their torture. Brittany wriggled and squealed, trying to break free from Santana's grasp. The blonde was laughing so hard, her eyes were squeezed shut, her hands grabbed at the chef's wrists but the Latina was unrelenting. Santana too chuckled heartily, there was nothing she loved more than hearing Brittany laugh, the joy emanating from the blonde was uplifting and heart warming. Santana made it her mission to make Brittany laugh or at least smile as often as possible. Her beauty was simply radiant, Santana suddenly stilled her motions and gazed adoringly at the angel below her. As the blonde's giggles subsided, she carefully cracked her eyes open, suspicious of the sudden end to the assault. When saw the awe inspired brown orbs gazing lovingly at her, Brittany smiled shyly.

"What?" Brittany asked innocently.

Without a sound, Santana leaned down and closed the gap agonisingly slowly between the two women. She latched her lips onto the blonde's, her eyes closed in anticipation and let a small sigh of satisfaction upon contact. Brittany too closed her eyes, she would never tire of feeling the brunette's full lips upon her own, or any part of her body. Aside from Santana's eyes, her lips were most definitely the dancer's favourite part of the Latina's body. As well as her dimples which caused the blonde to melt every time she even thought about them. Then there was the Latina's neck and collarbone, so elegant yet kissable. Arms, Brittany thought, Santana's arms were incredible, the warm comfort and safety they offered her were beyond anything she had ever imagined. The arch in the brunette's back before meeting her backside was another thing the dancer marvelled, the smooth lines of the Latina, so sumptuous and inviting. Brittany felt herself quiver as she continued to kiss her girlfriend, the thoughts causing her arousal to heighten. Without thought, her hands began to trace paths over the chef's body, settling on her ample bosom. Brittany met Santana's groan with her own pleasurable moan. The Latina's breasts were definitely high on Brittany's list. Santana's thighs clenched tightly against the dancer's legs causing the blonde to gasp, instantly recalling the strength and the muscles of those very thighs, the smoothness of the skin and ability to make Brittany squirm. Those legs also held a prominent spot on the dancer's list. Particularly when said legs were wrapped tightly around her waist. Brittany groaned again in anticipation of a repeat performance from earlier that day, and the previous evening. The couple simply could not get enough of one another. Despite their busy schedules, they always managed to make up for it on their down time.

Determined to keep her promise to the Latina, Brittany mustered all her strength and flipped Santana over so she was now laying on her back, the blonde hovering over her, a victorious smile plastered across her face.

"B." Santana gasped as the blonde continued to paw at her breasts, her lips now firmly attached to the Latina's neck, working their way down and over her collar bone.

"Mmmhmm." Brittany barely registered Santana had spoken anything, she had felt the vibrations of the chef's voice against her lips. She continued to lick and nip and kiss Santana's soft skin, causing the Latina to pull Brittany closer with her thighs.

"B." The brunette gasped. "Fuck." she panted as the blonde thrust herself against Santana's centre. "Fuck it." Santana resigned. She had been trying to gain Brittany's attention, wary she would be late for work and for the first time in her life, she did not care. Although she did, and would feel immense guilt later on, right now she needed to be with Brittany and nothing would come between them. "I need you." she panted against the blonde hair tickling her chin. She fastened her ankles around Brittany's back, pulling her impossibly closer, bucking her hips against Brittany's, desperate for contact. "Britt." she said, with pleading desperation.

The blonde obliged, but not before one final suck and nip, leaving a fresh mark on her girlfriend's neck. Smirking, she lifted her lips from the Latina's skin and raised her hazy, lust filled blue eyes to meet brown. She smiled lazily upon seeing the pleading sparkle in Santana's orbs. She placed a soft loving kiss on the brunette's pouting lips before loosening Santana's legs from her waist. She grabbed roughly at the waistband on the Latina's jeans and unfastened the fly buttons with ease, there was a knack and she had it down with so much practice. It did not go unnoticed by the brunette who smiled wildly as the cool air hit her legs, the further down Brittany pulled her pants, along with her underwear. With the offending items finally free, the throbbing within Santana intensified, she needed Brittany to touch her now. Reaching out, she caught hold of Brittany's wrist and pulled her closer, the blonde raised a questioning eyebrow, amused by her girlfriend's desperate attempts to get her closer. Not wanting to punish her lover further, the dancer settled herself back between the Latina's impossibly wide legs, purposefully thrusting her knee high into the Latina's groin. Santana gasped with pure unadulterated pleasure. The blonde smirked with satisfaction, having barely touched the chef who wriggled, fighting for friction, anything to scratch that itch.

The Latina cried out as Brittany immediately plunged two fingers into her, easing through the slick wetness. She captured Santana's lips, swallowing the cries of pleasure, muting the other woman as she thrust her tongue into her mouth. Santana bucked and grinded, creating a rhythm with the fingers that pumped in and out. Brittany adjusted herself and straddled Santana's thigh, her own need for friction becoming too much. She loved to pleasure her girlfriend so much, and more often than not would feel her own desires building the higher the Latina became. Brittany continued her assault, Santana pulled the blonde's body closer before suddenly pushing the blonde backwards. Shocked, Brittany's fingers stuttered, her palm slamming against Santana's engorged clit. The brunette whimpered before tearing at the blonde's shirt, yanking it off with vigour. "Too much clothing." she explained breathily, wanting to feel the blonde's skin. Brittany smiled, pulling the shirt free, momentarily losing contact with the brunette. "Now make love to me." The Latina's husky voice washed over Brittany's ears, spiking the hairs on her neck, causing her to shiver and goose bumps to appear. She sighed with renewed satisfaction, happy tears forcing their way into her eyes. Smiling she leaned down, reconnecting her lips with Santana's and kissed her languidly, exploring her mouth with her tongue softly and lovingly. Her fingers, having landed on the brunette's stomach, crept lower, tickling and scratching at the Latina's skin, whose t-shirt had risen and bunched just beneath her breasts. Santana moaned again as Brittany's fingers entered her for a second time. This time there was less urgency, the blonde putting all of her effort in gentle caresses and strokes. She lifted her lips from Santana's and grazed her ear, nuzzling the silken locks.

"I love you." She whispered, her breath tickling the Latina. Santana moaned again, the butterflies in her stomach carrying her impossibly high. Brittany's rhythm speeded up, pumping and curling her fingers. As the brunette's breathing became more laboured, Brittany began to circle Santana's clit, gently applying more and more pressure. She could feel her lover was close, so close. She captured Santana's lips once again as the pressure below intensified. The Latina's mouth broke free as she let out a cry of pleasure, her body shuddered and muscles clenched tightly around Brittany's fingers. The blonde attacked Santana's face, peppering it with sweet loving kisses as the brunette rode out her orgasm.

Santana's eyes fluttered open to greet the piercing blue gaze of her girlfriend. She smiled lazily as she reached up to caress the blonde's face. Brittany closed her eyes at the contact, enjoying the soft touch of Santana's smooth skin against her own. "I love you." the Latina whispered before leaning up to kiss the blonde's lips. The dancer obliged, deepening the kiss, connecting the two once again. Reluctantly, Brittany pulled away.

"I love you too." she mimicked. "And as much as I want to stay wrapped up with you forever . . ." she drifted off, her eyes glancing at the clock on the wall quickly, "we have work." she concluded, her eyes landing back on Santana. The Latina's eyes widened comically at the realisation she was now in fact late for work and should have been there ten minutes ago.

"Shit!" she exclaimed. "I really got to go." she said, making no attempt to move. Brittany smirked.

"You sure about that?" the blonde laughed as Santana hugged her closer.

"Yeah, just taking what I can before I get up."

"You're so cute." Brittany gushed, earning a raised eyebrow from her girlfriend.

"Not cute." Santana warned.

Brittany shrugged, she knew she would get away with it, Santana could never be mad at her. And just as Santana wriggled to free herself, Brittany realised something. This was the first time Santana had not put work first. The Latina had earlier stated she did not want to go into work that day and Brittany retorted jokingly. Santana knew she was late, yet she was in no immediate rush to leave her girlfriend. The smile that stretched across Brittany's face was quite possibly the biggest and brightest the blonde had ever worn. Santana chanced a glance at her girlfriend, she too smiled, the infectious grin upon the dancer's features was simply too adorable. "What?" Santana asked.

"Nothin'." Brittany replied coyly, earning a quizzical glare from the brunette. "Did I tell you I love you?"

"Yeah, like all the time." Santana laughed reaching in for another kiss. "I love you too, like, loads." she offered with a warm smile. "But I guess I have to make an appearance at work some time today.

"I know." Brittany grinned before looking around for her shirt.

"Hey," Santana placed her hand on the blonde's shoulder, "I'm sorry about," she blushed as she paused, "you know . . ." Brittany ducked her head and placed a sweet kiss on the Latina's cheek.

"It's fine," she shrugged, "I'll dance it off later." she added with a wink.

"Are you coming by the restaurant after work?" Santana asked hopefully.

"Of course, I don't think I could stay away." Brittany replied.

xoxo

As far as Tuesday nights go, it was suddenly unusually busy. Santana had a flurry of food orders fill the kitchen. Her staff were working under pressure, to deliver high quality with the abnormal quantity of food that was being ordered. It was early May, no public holiday to speak of, the shows on Broadway and in theatres in the surrounding area were yet to finish for the evening. The Latina just could not understand the sudden influx. She had staffed the day accordingly and now found herself short and running around doing twice as much work. Quinn burst through the swinging doors and entered the kitchen with purpose, Santana glanced up quickly as she was plating up an order, thankful she could not see a returned dish in the restaurant manager's hands. The next worse thing that could happen would be a verbal complaint. But she was confident in her staff and in her dishes, she inspected every single one before she called for service.

"Fabray," began the Chef, "to what do we owe the pleasure? And can you tell me why the hell it's so fucking busy out there? My guys are busting a gut in here."

"You think it's easy for front of house? Kurt is almost, _almost_, breaking a sweat out there." Quinn replied with a smirk.

"Jeez, it must be crazy." Santana replied on the understanding the Matre D broke sweat for no one or any thing, he was usually the epitome of calm when it came to his job.

"Yeah some theatre ended production early." the blonde shrugged.

"In all my time here, that's like never happened." a passing Finn commented.

"Tell me about it, it's mayhem, the talk of the town."

"What happened?" Santana asked casually.

"It's not pretty by any stretch of the imagination," Rachel had chosen the perfect moment to enter the kitchen. "but I heard from a very reliable source that a lighting rig collapsed, hurling from the ceiling of the theatre and injuring one of the poor unsuspecting performers, the lead I believe." she relayed waving her hands around. "There was blood everywhere. Literally."

Santana frowned, that didn't sound good. It did not sound good at all. "She's exaggerating. Eight year old girls are not the most reliable of witnesses Rachel." Quinn said, rolling her eyes again as she casually popped a strawberry into her mouth. "We know it wasn't _that_ serious. Besides, it happened during the interval, no one out there actually saw it."

"Is this eight year old girl smart enough to know what show she was seeing?" Santana asked, her nerves visibly on edge. Quinn's eyes widened, understanding the urgency of Santana's question, she herself had not spent too long listening to the whispers of the patrons and was not sure of the answer.

"Yes of course, I mean she may be a child who may or may not tend to exaggerate, but she's not stupid Santana."

"Fuck this." the chef cursed, throwing down the knife in her hand. Quinn winced as the metal hit the steel worktop with a clang and watched as the Latina stomped towards the kitchen doors.

"Oh." Rachel said as realisation dawned on her. The blonde looked at her incredulously before shaking her head. "It was Brittany Pierce's show."

Santana froze in the doorway, just as she crossed the threshold into the restaurant, the swinging door hitting her hard in the back. Her teeth clenched at the contact while simultaneously all colour drained from the chef's face, Rachel Berry's words ringing in her ears, 'It was Brittany Pierce's show.'


	12. Head Ache

**Thank you, thank you my lovelies for reading, for reviewing, for favouriting etc, I can't tell you how insanely happy that makes me. It makes me want to write, it makes me want to be better and it makes me want to give you more story (even if the updates aren't so quick, for which I apologise).**

**A/N: This chapter is more of a part B to chapter 10 than a stand alone.**

* * *

><p><em>Santana froze in the doorway, just as she crossed the threshold into the restaurant, the swinging door hitting her hard in the back. Her teeth clenched at the contact while simultaneously all colour drained from the chef's face, Rachel Berry's words ringing in her ears, 'It was Brittany Pierce's show."<em>

She stood in the doorway, the heavy wood halting against her back. The words bouncing around her head like a pinball. Brittany. She felt physically sick. She ran to the deserted bathroom and into a cubicle before emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Clinging to the porcelain like there was no tomorrow. Her tears left warm, wet tracks down her face as she heaved and sobbed, struggling to breath. 'Blood everywhere', she heard the words again and let out another cry. A warm hand pressed against her back and gently rubbed up and down. She flinched slightly at the contact, instantly aware of her intruder.

"Hey." Quinn said soothingly, attempting to calm the brunette. Santana struggled to her feet, using the toilet as leverage, grimacing at the severe lack of regard for hygiene. Cleanliness was one of Santana's 'things'. Being a chef, she had to ensure everything around her was clean all of the time, and being sat on the floor of a toilet cubicle with her bare hands gripping the bowl added to her nausea. Rushing over to the sink, she scrubbed at her hands furiously, while tears continued to stream down her face. Shutting off the tap, she stood abruptly. Her spine was as straight as a ramrod and her eyes bore uncomfortably into her own reflection. Santana barely recognised the woman staring back.

"I need to go." she said, turning on her heel and rushing through the door. Quinn rolled her eyes and tutted, and charged right after her. The headstrong chef was on a mission and when Santana had her mind set to something, very seldom did it stray. Stopping abruptly, Quinn barrelled into the back of the Latina who turned, a scowl firmly planted across her features. "Shit Quinn, watch the hell where you're going."

"Sorry." the blonde muttered under her breath. "You don't know where she is, if she's even hurt." she suggested calmly and placed a comforting hand on Santana's arm. The chef looked suspiciously at the hand on her arm, an eyebrow raised in question. Ignoring her, Quinn continued, "Rachel has a tendency to blow things way out of proportion and I dare say her 'source'" Quinn paused, using air quotes, "is less than reliable . Just calm down and think about this rationally." The brunette took a deep breath. The restaurateur was right, being hot headed and spontaneous now would not do anyone any good.

"My cell, I need to check my cell phone."

"Good start." Quinn concurred and let out a small sigh of relief, her heartbeat attempting to return to normal. She could not deal with an overly emotional Santana right now. The chef continued out of the bathroom and made a beeline for the staff room. Frantically searching her bag for her phone, images of Brittany flooded her mind. Brittany sitting on a bar stool in the restaurant, her happy bright blue eyes radiating such warmth and compassion, it was the first time they met. The first time Santana had ever laid eyes on the beautiful creature that she would later fall in love with. The woman who she would learn was the best thing to have ever happened to her, and the woman who she could not be without. Santana swiped at the hot tears pooling in her eyes, clouding her vision. A frustrated growl left her lips as she dug further into her bag. Finally grasping the sought after item, she yanked it free of its confines. Staring at the screen she saw she had 7 missed calls. Fumbling to get to her call log she froze when she saw Brittany's name appear six times. The other was her mother. However there was no voicemail message, no text message. Santana's heart plummeted to the depths of her stomach. She gasped as she felt a hand on her back once again.

"Will you quit doing that Quinn? Seriously." she snapped before she rubbed at her temple where a headache was forming. "She called me, like six times." Santana sighed. "She needed me, or needs me and I'm not there." her voice was beginning to strain. "God dammit." she balled her fist and punched at the locker beside hers. There was a pregnant pause, the air was heavy, Santana's breathing was staggered. Her teeth were clenched, the air hissed as she breathed in and out through them. Her eyes were scrunched closed and wrinkles formed around her eyes.

"Oh Kurt is not going to be happy about that dent." Quinn said timidly, holding her breath. She thought maybe a little light relief would ease some of the tension in the room. She knew Santana wasn't a bad person although she often came across at work as tough and unrelenting, but she knew the Latina had a big heart and since finding love with Brittany, her razor sharp edges were slowly beginning to blunt. Santana sighed and let out a small half hearted chuckle. Despite her anxiety, she could hear the squeal emanating from Kurt's lips. The blonde's words helped ease some of the anger that embroiled her.

"I have missed calls from Britt, but no message." she regaled. "What if, what if . . ." Santana frowned, struggling to form her words.

"Hey," Quinn said, guiding the chef over to the free plastic chair in the corner, "call her. Or do you want me to do it?" the blonde offered. "If Brittany doesn't have her cell phone, someone else will." The thoughts of Brittany not being on the other end of her own phone were ones Santana could not help but think. If some other person answered her phone, then her worst thoughts would be confirmed. If Brittany answered her phone, she could breath again easily.

"I . . ." Santana composed herself by taking another deep breath, she nodded, "I'll do it." She starred at her shaking hands, turning it over, the device now facing her. Taking one last glance at the screen, a picture of Brittany having just woken up beaming back up at her, she called her girlfriend. Santana waited for the connection to be made, which seemed to take forever, while a number of scenarios ran through her head. The line clicked, automatically sending her to voicemail. She looked nervously at Quinn who was crouched beside her, a steadying hand placed on her thigh. "Voicemail." she said shakily.

Quinn waited patiently, watching the emotions pass through Santana's eyes as the Latina listened to Brittany's voice real off instructions for leaving a message. Santana smiled ever so briefly, Quinn deduced that the dancer had said something amusing or adorable in her recorded message.

"B, Brittany baby, please, please call me when you get this." Santana said, holding her nerves together. "I really need to know you're ok. I love you." she added quietly. She ended the call with a sigh, rattling her brain as to what to do next. She could not just sit there, or go back to her duties, Santana had to do something, she had to find out where Brittany was and if she was hurt. "What if -"

"No." Quinn abruptly interrupted the quivering voice of the Latina. "No what if's San. Come on." the blonde said, standing from her perched position beside the chef. She took a hold of Santana's wrist and dragged her up with her.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked with a puzzled expression.

"_We_," began the restaurateur, "are going to find your girl." Quinn smiled warmly. "First stop, the theatre."

xx

The pounding was relentless, thrum, thrum, thrum. The beat bouncing around, drowning out any other thought or sound. Then a wave of calm and the thumping began to subside, it became fainter and fainter, slowly disappearing into the ether.

xx

The banging on the door was unyielding, desperation stood on one side, trying to get the occupant's attention. There was shouting, first one voice, when that didn't work another voice called out.

"Can I help you?" The door creaked open, Santana gasped with relief, the lack of lights inside the building was a telltale sign the theatre had been abandoned for the night.

"Yeah, err . . ." the Latina began, her thoughts preventing her from speaking. She took a dry gulp of air before choking on her attempted words.

"The accident, this evening? Can you tell us if Brittany Pierce is ok?" Quinn spoke up. Santana nodded ferociously beside her, willing the guy before them to tell her what she wanted to hear. Though the niggling feeling in the back of her mind could not help but fear the worst.

"I'm sorry, I'm the janitor, I just got here." he began in his thick New York accent. "Sorry ladies, I know nothin'." he said before closing the door in their faces.

"Well that was rude." Quinn said, turning to face the busy street. She looked to Santana, the dejected look on the Latina's face saddened her. "Hey," she said, rubbing her hand up and down the chef's arm. "We'll find her."

xx

While it was dark, the street lights offered visibility. Too much light. While usually the lights of New York City were a part of it's charm, right now, complete darkness would be very welcome. No pain, no worries, just a blanket of darkness. A small blinking light indicated a message, the light was hypnotising and the darkness came again.

xx

"Wait." Quinn stated as she searched her body for her ringing cell phone. The two women had stepped out of the cab and stood on the sidewalk outside of the nearest Emergency Room, having almost run out of options. Quinn took the item from her pocket, frowning at the display 'Berry' she mouthed with an eyeroll before answering. "Rachel, what do you want?" she asked, her voice tired.

"Hello to you too Quinn." came the curt reply.

"What is it Rachel? We're kinda busy." Quinn demanded with little patience.

"I have new information that may help you in your investigation." Rachel offered breezily.

"Really? Have you been talking to your friend from the second grade again?" the blonde sniped with a confident smirk.

"No." the waitress replied. "I'll have you know Noah Puckerman came into the restaurant looking for Santana."

"Who is Noah Puckerman?" Quinn asked, her tone short. Santana's eyes widened, her mouth opened as if to say something, though said nothing. She decided to wait until Quinn had further information.

"Who is Noah Puckerman? What sort of a question is that?" Rachel asked before her voice sounded slightly distant. "Noah shush, I'm talking."

"Berry!" The blonde warned.

"Right, sorry, well Noah Puckerman is an esteemed colleague of Brittany's in the show and he just asked me out on a date." Rachel explained excitedly. Quinn's mouth formed an 'O' shape at the revelation, before she had time to respond, Santana swiped the phone from her friend's hand.

"Give me that." she said before holding the phone to her ear. "Berry, where is she?"

"Oh hi Santana . . ." her voice trailed off and could hear a shuffling in the background and very whiny Rachel Berry.

"Santana? It's Puck. Noah."

"Where is she Puck?" Santana demanded.

"Relax, she's ok." Puck said, attempting to put the Latina's nerves at ease. Santana let out a shaky breath, those were the words she had longed to hear. She waited for the actor to elaborate. "Britt wasn't hurt, she wasn't even at the theatre." he said, causing a frown to form on the Latina's face.

"Why, what happened?" new panic washed over her, it was unlike Brittany to miss a performance.

"She developed a migraine, I put her in a cab and sent her home. She called me when she got back and said she was heading to bed. I assumed she would have called you too." Puck stated.

"She did." Santana offered quietly. "But she didn't leave a message."

"Don't be too hard on her, a migraine can really knock you about." Puck said, sympathising with both women. Santana sighed, she knew the effects of a migraine, she had seen her mother suffer several in the past.

"How is the err, you know what is she? Who is she? It was a she right?" Santana babbled unnaturally. She turned to Quinn, "We need to get another cab." she said.

"The understudy, she's called April, she's ok, few stitches, nothing too serious." Puck explained.

Quinn motioned for Santana to get into the cab she had hailed, she stood waiting with the door open. Santana offered a small smile of gratitude. She had to get to Brittany, the blonde was more than likely laying alone in a dark room in pain. The brunette hurried across the sidewalk and jumped into the back of the cab behind Quinn, reeling off Brittany's address.

"Sorry Puck, I have to go, thanks for, you know." she said, slightly distracted.

"Sure no worries. Take care of Brittany."

"I will." she smiled "Bye Puck."

"Goodbye Santana." he concluded.

Santana threw her head back and looked at the grubby ceiling of the New York City cab. Thousands of people had been in the back of the same cab, each on a different journey, each with different worries, agendas, celebrations. So many emotions had passed through the back doors and across the upholstery of the taxi. The Latina closed her eyes and took her bottom lip between her teeth, her own headache brewing across the back of her eyes. She wondered if it was due to the stress she had been under that evening, the worry of not knowing what had happened to Brittany or was it sympathy pains for the beautiful blonde. She could not bare the thought of the other woman being in pain, being all alone, although alone was probably best for Brittany right now. Peace and quiet, sleep, pain medication. She hoped the blonde had managed to take some medication to help ease the throbbing in her head. If the dancer suffered anything like her mother, her sight would be suffering also. She knew she had to get to the blonde, to comfort her and make sure she was looked after. Also for her own peace of mind. So many times the blonde had taken care of her, sacrificed her time and effort and been incredibly patient with the Latina. It was Santana's turn to take care of her girl. As the yellow taxi rolled to a stop Santana's eyes sprung open, she heaved the door open and jumped out, leaving Quinn to pay the fare. She ran into the building and up the stairs taking two at a time, suddenly unearthing a wealth of boundless energy.

Upon reaching Brittany's door, she held up her hand to knock, she took a breath, regaining her composure and forced her fist forward, knuckles hitting wood. She was nervous, yet she had no clue why. Santana had spent most of the evening running around the City, looking for Brittany, praying to anyone who would listen that she was safe. The Chef knocked gently against the wood. She paused. And waited. When she heard no stirring's from inside the apartment she tried again. Harder this time. Knock, knock, knock. A stern hit upon the door. Again she paused. Turned her head and inched her ear closer to the door. Slowly she moved until she felt the cold, solid oak against her skin. She could hear them. Faint. Footsteps. They were getting closer, becoming louder the nearer they got. Santana's heart was in her throat, any moment Brittany would open the door, the blonde would fall into her arms and the brunette could take care of her. The footsteps were so close now, the hairs on the Latina's neck stood on end in anticipation, she slowly lifted her head away from the door. And waited.

"What are you doing?" the voice said from behind in her ear.

"Jesus fucking Christ Quinn. What the actual fuck?" Santana yelled, spinning around fists raised in defence, an angry scowl on her face. The blonde's eyes widened before she cracked a face splitting grin.

"Woah, chill out Sugar Ray Robinson."

"Who? What?" Santana snapped.

"Boxing?" the brunette starred blankly at her friend. "No?" Quinn asked with a slight shake of the head, Santana's scowl becoming more sinister. "Ooookay." She drawled out with a shrug. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for my girlfriend to answer the door."

"Maybe she's asleep." Quinn suggested. "Do you have a key?"

Santana huffed, her eyes finding her feet. "No." she said quietly, "I don't have a key." she felt somewhat embarrassed that she and Brittany were so in love and so together yet they had not exchanged apartment keys. Truthfully, she had not had the time to get another cut, she had been meaning to and she and Brittany had joked about it. She knew the blonde too was short on downtime and they preferred to spend their precious time either with each other or catching up on household chores. Santana raised her eyes and looked into the sympathetic hazel gaze before her.

"It's ok. Try again." Quinn offered with a reassuring smile. Santana knocked the door again, a little firmer than the prior two times. She starred intently at the door, willing it to open. The seconds felt like hours. When no response came, the chef gritted her teeth and furrowed her brow. She bowed her head, feeling entirely helpless. "San." the blonde spoke. "We should go."

"I, I can't." Santana replied with a stutter. Not only did she not want to leave, she could not leave. She wanted to stay, wanted to be able to see Brittany as soon as possible and if that meant sitting outside of her door on the cold tiled floor then so be it. She would. Only Quinn had other ideas. The restaurateur was straight-laced and sensible. She was logical and was able to see the bigger picture, whereas the Latina was a more insular in her thinking, blinkered and almost too focused on what she wanted which did not always mean it was the best thing to do.

"Santana." Quinn urged quietly, her soft hand tugged gently at the brunette's arm. The Latina looked up at her friend, forlorn and lost. She knew there was little she could do until Brittany was awake and responsive to her phone messages. She just hoped it was not more serious. Widening her eyes, an idea struck her. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled her cell phone and began to search for a number. A small, triumphant smile tugged at her lips as she found what she was looking for before holding the device to her ear. It was then she realised she was shaking, her unsteady hand gripped the phone tightly as she heard the ringing through the earpiece.

"Hello?" came the abrupt answer on the other end of the line.

"Ray? Hi, it's Santana." she paused, "Lopez." the brunette added for clarity.

"Santana, hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Er, I'm," she paused, trying to figure out her words, not wanting to worry her girlfriend's father. "I'm concerned about Brittany. She left work with a migraine and I can't get a hold of her. Has she had one before?" Santana asked with trepidation.

"Arh," came the immediate knowing response. "Yes, she has. Poor Brittany's suffered several migraines over the past few years. It usually mostly affects her vision, but she has had the headache to go with it." he explained. "She'll be fine after a good sleep, plenty of water and some pain meds." Ray reassured, "She knows how to handle it Santana, you don't need to worry."

The brunette let out an almighty sigh of relief and a small tear trickled from her tired eyes which she swiped at. Smiling she thanked Brittany's father for his reassuring words and grateful at his insistence the last time they met that she take his number should she ever need to call. "And please pass on my regards to Mrs Pierce. Brittany told me about their phone call."

"Yes." Ray replied, "I'm afraid I endured an earful after that particular conversation." he chuckled. Santana roused another smile as thoughts of Valerie wagging her finger in her husband's face, although the realness of the situation would be far from comical.

"I'm sorry Ray. You know Britt really wanted to be able to tell her in person with you there too."

"To act as a buffer?"

"Quite possibly." Santana grinned, knowing her girlfriend all too well.

"Val told me about the situation with Daniel." Ray stated, there was a moment's silence, the Latina had anticipated he intended to say more, "Thank you Santana for being there for my baby girl." A sudden flash of guilt hit Santana like a freight train, because in reality, she was not there for Brittany and had walked out on her, leaving the blonde with the predatory ex boyfriend. She glanced sideways at Quinn, the woman she had spent her time with whilst Brittany had suffered. Shaking her head to rid the thoughts from her mind, the brunette placed a hand over the number on Brittany's front door. It was number forty three, Brittany's favourite number because 'if you turn your head it almost looks like a heart. Sort of.' Santana smiled at the memory, her mind replaying the blonde head tilting to the right as she spoke. It was then she was reminded of Brittany's persistence that the brunette was not to place any blame on herself. It had been a complicated situation to begin with and the blonde had all but begged for Santana to move passed the events of that day.

"I will do anything for her." Santana stated.

"I know sweetheart, how do you think I figured you two out?" Ray asked, amused, "I can see it in the way you look at her. " Santana could hear the smile in his voice and bit her lip with slight nerves. Here she was having a conversation with her girlfriend's father who she had only met a handful of times. He was as easy going as his daughter and found that he was incredibly pleasant to talk to. "She loves you Santana and despite her outgoing personality and ability to befriend anybody, she doesn't fall in love easily." he divulged, much to Santana's surprise. She had always assumed the dancer was full to bursting with so much love to give. But loving and being in love with were entirely different things. "Of course when it's the other way around she has people falling at her feet. But you're special, she had to woo you." he concluded. A frown formed on Santana's brow. "I'll leave that with you." he said, chuckling once again, this time Santana could not help but smile, the Pierce happiness was contagious and despite possible differences with Valerie, Santana felt very comfortable with the Pierce family. "Tell my princess to call when she's feeling better."

"Will do Ray. And thank you." as much as she wanted to add 'for everything' she knew he would understand without the need. They had developed a strong rapport since the moment they met. Santana was convinced it was in the Pierce genes. Having said their goodbyes, Santana hung up the call and turned to face her companion. "She'll be ok." the brunette said confidently with a small smile. Speaking with Brittany's father had certainly eased her worry for the blonde, although there was still a niggle in the back of her mind.

"Of course she will." Quinn started with a beaming smile. "She has you."

xx

The stairs tonight were a sheer mission. The elevator was out of action for 'maintenance work'. Santana had scoffed as she saw the sign on the elevator doors, dragging first her eyes and then her feet to the stairwell. With a huge sigh, she began her journey. Tonight, five flights just seemed five too many. She had tore across the city like a contestant in the Amazing Race, only it was far from amazing and not really a race she mused as she trudged passed the number three on the wall. Her legs grew heavier the further she ascended. It had been some time since she had visited a gym or went for a run, and was now beginning to regret it. She had little sleep the previous night, had endured further physical exertion with Brittany in the morning and then again at her apartment before both had left for work. Work. She thought, that had been challenging in it's own right with the unprecedented busyness that evening. Then there was the emotional turmoil she had endured. In all, Santana was ready to drop with her body threatening to give out at any moment.

Reaching her door she sighed with relief, never had she been so happy to see a large lump of wood. Dipping her hand into her bag, she fumbled around for a moment before it remerged, empty. She frowned, delved her hand back into her satchel and scrambled around frantically, desperate to feel the cool metal of her door key against her fingers. Yet it was not there. The Latina began to seethe, she tried again. But again, nothing. Dropping to her knees, she clumsily bashed her head against the door, wincing in pain and grunting in frustration. "Seriously?" she raised her voice at no one. The chef took her bag and tipped it upside down, emptying it's contents on the cold tiled floor. She began to sift through the contents, her wallet, tissues, gum, lip balm, ipod, a tampon, an earring, a few loose coins, a pen, a fork, 'a fucking fork?' she thought. Shaking her head, there was no key. Hearing a click and a draft of cool air drift across her face she looked up. Her front door wide open, bare feet and bare legs stood awkwardly in front of her. Just as panic set in, she raised her eyes further, her heart all but stopping as she took in the sleepy, dishevelled blonde in her doorway wearing her Dodger's t-shirt. Breathing raggedly, following an initial deep breath, Santana jumped to her feet and threw her arms around her girlfriend. Never in her life had she been so pleased to see anyone.

"Britt-Britt." she breathed into the dancer's neck. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a headache." the blonde slurred into Santana's ear. Her own arms tight around the brunette.

"I know sweetheart." Santana said, pulling back slightly and took in the tired, pale features of her girlfriend. She placed the back of her hand against the blonde's forehead and frowned at the high temperature.

"I heard a noise, and you don't have your key." Brittany explained, her eyes closing. The Latina's mind flashbacked to the rush they had been in that afternoon when Santana was late for work, Brittany had been dawdling, so the chef decided to run downstairs and hail a cab whilst the blonde locked up. She silently nodded her head at the memory. So fraught was she that she was late, she had forgotten to ask for her key.

"I don't. And you need to get into bed." Santana smiled adoringly. She gently nudged the blonde back into the apartment before turning back to the hallway. She kicked her bag and it's contents over the threshold and closed the door behind her. Santana followed Brittany into the bedroom, the blonde crawled back on the bed where the sheets were crumpled and a glass of water stood on her bed side table next to a packet of pain medication. Santana disappeared into the bathroom for a moment returning quickly to Brittany's side. Sitting on the edge of the bed where the blonde was now snuggled under the covers, her eyes closed. The brunette pressed the damp cool cloth to Brittany's forehead, earning a satisfied sigh from the other girl.

"That feels good."

"You can keep it you know." Santana said, as if a thought had escaped her lips. Brittany opened her eyes and sent a questioning gaze to her girlfriend, an infinite number of possibilities running through her mind. "The key." the brunette explained with a careful smile, her gaze fixed to the blue orbs below. As the words finally penetrated Brittany's aching head, she beamed, lifting her heavy head from the pillow and met Santana's lips with her own in swift, sweet kiss of gratitude. Since her run in the show had been extended, both women had been secretly relieved, particularly the brunette who had been unsure of Brittany's movements should her run be over. Despite assurances that she would stay in New York, both girls knew Brittany would need to go where the work was and whilst there was a wealth of opportunity in the Big Apple, there were no guarantees. Until the producers of the show offered her a decent extension with a generous pay package, there was that element of doubt. It had been Santana's intention to give the blonde a key to her apartment, it just had not happened yet. "I'm so glad you're ok." the brunette said, a lump in her throat forming.

Brittany smiled lazily, closing her eyes with fatigue, "S'only a migraine San." she slurred.

"B, there was an accident at the theatre." Santana spoke with caution. The blonde opened one eye and frowned.

"Whaddya mean?"

"During the interval a lighting rig fell and hit your understudy."

Brittany bolted upright, her eyes shooting open, the cloth falling from her head and into her lap. "Ow, ow, ow." she winced, Santana mimicked her actions in sympathy "She ok?"

"Yeah, she's fine. But I thought it was you." Santana spoke quietly with sadness, her heart twinging at the memory.

"Oh." Brittany said. "Oh, baby." she hugged Santana tight, kissing the top of her head. "I'm ok." she reassured. "Well, I'm not, but I am." she stated, earning a small chuckle from her girl.

"I know babe. You need to get some rest and then when you wake up in the morning, you're going to call your Dad." Santana said, gently pushing the blonde back onto the bed.

"Why do I need to call my Dad?" Brittany asked with an almighty yawn.

"Because sweet cheeks, he's concerned." Santana explained as she pulled the duvet tightly around Brittany. She leant down and kissed the blonde's forehead. "I may have called him because I was worried." the brunette let out quickly and quietly. The blonde's mouth gaped open before she leaned up and kissed Santana's lips again.

"Ohmygod you amaze me Santana Lopez." the Latina blushed and shook her head from side to side, "I love you so much."

"Me too." Santana said before rising from the bed. "I'm just going to change for bed and I'll be right back ok?"

"Mmmhmm." Brittany replied, closing her eyes once again, sleep threatening to pull her from reality. "Hurry."

Moments later, as promised, Santana climbed into the bed and under the covers, snaking her arm over Brittany's stomach, hugging her tightly. She laid her head on the blonde's chest and smiled as it was her favourite way to sleep. Brittany mumbled something incoherently, causing the brunette's heart to swell. Today had been a test for Santana as well as a day with one important revelation. Hearing that Brittany did not fall in love easily was both surprising and very welcome at the same time. She had not thought much about it, but would imagine that with Brittany's huge heart and all the love she had to give, the blonde would fall in love with ease. The truth was, Brittany did love with ease. She saw the good in everyone and everything, she loved to help people and was friendly with everyone she came into contact with. Her motto was to treat others as you would like to be treated and it worked for her. However sometimes she had a tendency to be a little too trusting of people. What Santana had not realised was that she kept her heart as guarded as Santana and believed it was a very precious gift to give to one special person. Whilst being with the blonde was exhilarating, it was also scary at the same time as it was both an education and a journey. Although they were at the very beginning of their relationship, the Latina was excited for the first time ever to fully share her heart and her life with someone. She trusted Brittany implicitly, and with every new revelation, Santana loved Brittany just that little bit more. She sighed and snuggled closer into the sleeping beauty, feeling relieved and happy, but ultimately exhausted. She yawned before fully relaxing and falling into a peaceful slumber.


	13. Top of the Rock

**Thank you again my lovely reviewers, alerters and readers :) I love you all!**

**A huge welcome back to my returning brilliant beta lizzylizbian, I've missed her so much and you probably have too ;)**

**This chapter is dedicated to lovebugxstories 3**

* * *

><p>Success cannot be measured. Success is not a scientific or mathematical equation. Temperature, distance, time, these are things that can be measured and worked out methodically. However, success is a personal achievement. What makes success so personal, is one's own ideals, desires, and plans. For one person, it may be to find love. For another, it might be to progress in a chosen career. Some people just want happiness, while others just want to be healthy. People will always make judgements on other's successes and achievements; however, only you can determine how successful you are in your endeavours.<p>

Santana Lopez first experienced success when she was accepted into a chef training programme in Paris when she was eighteen. For her, this was a huge accomplishment and everything she had ever dreamt of. By the time her apprenticeship finished, the chef already had new goals for the future. Her first being to work in a restaurant in London. Once this was achieved, Santana felt she could take her experience and expertise home to Los Angeles, to run her own kitchen, creating new dishes and menus from her teachings in Europe. And she did.

Following a slump in her personal life and several years in the same restaurant, Santana felt it was time for a new challenge. When she was headhunted for the Head Chef position at Empire State of Mind, she took it without hesitation. She had visited New York a few times. Thanks to it's charm and persuasion, she knew that she could easily fall in love with the City. What she did not anticipate happening so quickly was falling in love. It was not a part of her plan.

Brittany Pierce, a dancer from the early stages of her life, believed she could achieve great things within a career of dance. Her first success was the moment she opened the envelope to a prestigious performing arts school in London. The envelope contained an acceptance letter. Her second success followed soon after. She moved away from her tight family unit and established a home for herself in a foreign country. Brittany continued to amaze herself. With every reach she achieved, her confidence and abilities grew to heights she never thought possible. She was offered small parts in West End productions, in which she excelled. However, she was making friends and having fun, which was the most important thing to Brittany.

One fateful day, a director of a new musical saw her and personally asked her to audition. The audition was a success and she was cast as the lead. After an extended run in the West End, the musical moved to Broadway, where Brittany was asked to reprise her role. She took it without hesitation. She had visited New York a few times. Thanks to it's charm and persuasion, she knew that she could easily fall in love with the City. What she did not anticipate happening so quickly was falling in love. It was not a part of her plan.

xx

Tonight was the biggest night of her career so far. Santana had experienced several of those already in her life so far. However, this was a significant step for the Chef. The James Beard Foundation awards were a national annual awards ceremony celebrating all aspects of the hospitality and catering industry. Santana Lopez was nominated as Rising Star Chef of the Year Award for her work as Head Chef at the restaurant. She had told Brittany of her invitation to the ceremony, though kept the nomination from her as a surprise. She had gotten tickets for her parents also, though she remained uncertain if they were going to show or not. After several attempts to contact her mother, she gave up. She would not admit out loud that she was disappointed, and a fleeting comment to Brittany about it being 'their loss' had ended the conversation. Yet inside, she was hurting. All she ever wanted was her parents to be supportive of her career choice. It was an ongoing battle she was resigned to accepting.

Santana was sitting alone at a table in the restaurant. Although she had the day off from work, she was going to meet Brittany for brunch after the dancer's vocal session. She was currently sipping on a hot cup of coffee and sitting back, enjoying a rare read of the Daily News.

"Another coffee Miss Lopez?" the waitress hovered over her with a fresh pot of brewed coffee.

"Berry, enough with the formalities, just pour the damn coffee," Santana spat, frustrated at being interrupted. It was when Rachel was still stood over her blocking her light that Santana looked up again with a questioning gaze. "What?"

"I'm dating Noah Puckerman." Santana raised an eyebrow in response.

"And you're telling me because . . . ?"

"Because you're dating a Broadway star also and I thought maybe we could -"

"No," the Latina answered sternly, holding up a hand to prevent the waitress from carrying the conversation further. "No double dates."

"I wasn't going to-"

"No, Berry. Just no."

"Please Santana, I just need to . . ." Santana rolled her eyes as Rachel continued, "how do you cope with dating a Broadway star?"

"You want to talk about that now Berry?" the Latina asked. "I'm waiting for my girlfriend so we can spend a rare day together," she raised an eyebrow at her intruder, "and you should be working."

"Please Santana," Rachel said as she pulled out a seat beside the Chef. Santana shot an incredulous look of disbelief in her colleague's direction who seemed oblivious to her intrusion. Rolling her eyes in defeat, the Latina huffed.

"Fine. You just deal with it, ok?"

"Wait, is that it? Just deal with it?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah, well, working in hospitality, our hours are very similar, so it's not as tough as it could be," Santana explained holding up her cup to a lips. She took a sip and sighed with satisfaction.

"And what about the unwanted attention?"

"I'm sorry what now?" Santana asked with wide eyes.

"You know, when you and Brittany are out on a sweet romantic date, you only have eyes for each other and then all of a sudden you get interrupted by a fan wanting a photo or an autograph," the waitress explained wistfully, images of her scenario flashing through her mind.

"It's very much like enjoying a cup of coffee and reading the paper only to be interrupted by an annoying talkative hobbit."

Ignoring her, Rachel continued in earnest, "how do you cope with the unwanted attention?"

"Oh pur-lease Berry, you strive for attention. You'd stand in the middle of Times Square with your own neon sign over your head if you could afford it." Santana scoffed, "actually, I'm surprised you haven't got a gig as one of those tour bus guides. You fit the mould perfectly with your jibber-jabbering attention whore ways."

"While you might be somewhat partially accurate in your assessment of me Santana, I am a romantic at heart. I would like at least one date without interruptions," rambled the petite brunette.

"Riiiiight," Santana drawled. "Listen Berry, if you're serious then you plan accordingly, choose a dimly lit restaurant, go to the movies, even the theatre. Go somewhere at off-peak times, away from the beaten track. There's loads of options Rachel."

"What was it like?"

"What was what like?" Santana asked, unsure exactly what Rachel was referring to. She took another sip of her coffee.

"The first time," Rachel replied spritely. Santana sprayed the coffee that was in her mouth across the table, soaking her newspaper. She stood up, grabbing the napkin from the table and began to wipe at the drips on her shirt.

"Are you fucking kidding me Berry?" Santana hissed, still swiping at the droplets down her front.

"What?" Rachel asked before her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, no no no, that's not what I meant. I meant the first time someone recognised Brittany while you were out together."

Santana again rolled her eyes. The usually articulate waitress had failed to be clear in her diction. Sitting down, she replaced the napkin on the table. "It was actually on our first date, sort of date. At the time, for Britt it was a date." Santana chuckled at the memory of the day they spent together as tourists. "And now, I guess it was our first date." She spared a glance at her colleague who was leaning on her elbows with interest. She frowned at the wistful look in the waitress' eyes.

"It's so admirable. We really are thankful to Brittany for whisking you off your feet. You are so much more . . . mellow," the petite brunette concluded, causing Santana's eyebrows to knit impossibly close to one another.

"Excuse me?" she asked with disbelief.

Rachel shrugged, "you're less of a bitch."

"She's right," Kurt agreed as he swept passed. Santana opened her mouth to retaliate but no sooner had Kurt appeared, he disappeared.

"You should continue your story. I'm eager to hear how it works out and I'm a little short on time here," Rachel ordered, pointing to the imaginary watch on her wrist. Sometimes Santana felt like she worked in the twilight zone.

"So anyway," the chef began, shaking her head from the previous obscure conversation. "We were Top of the Rock and this couple recognised Britt and wanted a picture taken with her."

"Let me guess. You were rude?"

Santana feigned shock, her hand darting to her heart in mock pain. "So apparently I was a bitch back then."

"You're kind of still a bitch right now, just more . . ."

"Mellow. Fine I get it," the Latina smirked, "I mean Britt had gone to the trouble to organise a perfect day for us together, we were standing Top of the Rock at sunset, the view was incredible and I was with the most beautiful girl in the world. Of course I was pissed." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "But Britt, she just handled both the couple and myself perfectly, with such poise and calm."

"That's why you work so well together. Polar opposites," Rachel concluded. Santana pursed her lips in thought.

"You have a point midget," the Chef nodded her head in agreement. "I mean that day was like the first day we spent any significant time together and it was like she just knew me. She got me. She just has this insane ability to get inside my head and my heart and just, I don't know I can't explain." She narrowed her eyes. "Anyway, why am I telling you this? This is so not appropriate. Get back to work," Santana said, ignoring the glare from the other woman. "Chop chop," she emphasised with the clap of her hands. She watched with a satisfied smirk as the waitress hurried to her feet and scurried away to tend to her duties.

Santana picked up her cup, placing her lips around the rim of the glass, sighing as the dark liquid washed over her tongue. It was a perfect hit of much needed caffeine following the impromptu relationship counselling session bestowed upon her. Taking another few sips in quick succession, the Latina began to finger the pages of her newspaper, looking for a story of interest. Flipping to the entertainment section, she scoured the Broadway news with hopes of a glimpse of Brittany's name or picture. However, what she found, she did not expect, the mouthful of coffee almost spraying from her mouth as she choked upon swallowing the hot liquid.

xx

Today was an ordinary day for Brittany, except for the fact she would be accompanying her girlfriend to an awards ceremony that evening. It would be a perfect opportunity to treat it as a date. It was rare they were able to spend a whole evening together, let alone day. Wrapping up her vocal session, she took a swig of water, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid against her strained throat. She had felt a little hoarse that morning, but hot lemon and honey had loosened it significantly. Only now she was feeling a small strain after the session her vocal coach had put her through.

"Rest that voice Brittany," her coach ordered as she packed away her sheet music.

"Yes boss."

"I mean it," Mercedes warned. She was a pro who carried ample of experience with coaching Broadway stars. "No noise is to come out of that mouth unless absolutely necessary. Do you hear me?" she raised an accusing finger. The blonde opened her mouth to retaliate. "Oh hell no." Mercedes glared at her student.

"What about sex?"

"Noah Puckerman, you did not just say that," Mercedes retorted.

"Oh I did. And I'm picturing it. Have you seen how hot her girl is? I doubt our superstar here can keep herself from screaming."

"Is that why you have a sore throat?" Mercedes threw an accusatory glance towards a stunned blonde. "Second thought, do not answer that question." The audible gulp and rising blush from the dancer was all the confirmation the vocal coach needed. "Why do I even bother?" She threw her hands up with a dramatic huff and picked up her bag.

"But I have a date tonight," Brittany whined. The thought of not even being able to talk to Santana filled her with an overwhelming sense of sadness.

"I'm not saying don't talk at all Brittany," Mercedes replied, her eyes gentle and her smile soft, "Just take care of your voice. It's your instrument, your tool," she explained. The blonde nodded in understanding, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'll see you guys next week," the vocal coach concluded as she departed, leaving the two Broadway stars alone.

"Can you not objectify my girlfriend like that." It was more a statement than a question, but the dancer was serious. "And don't make our relationship sound so sordid and trivial." She shot her colleague a stern frown.

"Woah, dude, I'm sorry, I was just messing with you," Noah defended, despite his obvious playboy attitude.

"I mean it Puck. It's ok to have the occasional laugh and joke, but you went too far," Brittany stated solemnly. Yes, she would joke that she had a hot girlfriend and the sex was great, but Puck had over stepped the mark. They were having a serious conversation about work and he had been inappropriate with his comments.

"Look, I'm sorry ok," Puck offered with genuine regret in his eyes. "I actually have a question for you. A serious one."

"Ok then, yes, you can watch," Brittany stated deadpan. Puck's eyes widened in horror before the blonde's face split into a wide grin. "Kidding, but you deserved that," she said with a playful punch to his upper arm. She guided them over to a couple of chairs that sat at the edge of the room.

Sitting, Puck played with the label on his water bottle while Brittany sat patiently waiting for him to speak. "I asked Rachel on a date."

Brittany smiled, she was fully aware of this information. Santana had filled her in on the brief conversation she had had with Puck over the telephone. It had been a comical situation, with Brittany drifting off to sleep and the brunette casually mentioning it, 'oh and Puck's asked Berry out on a date,' with an added snort of hilarity. The blonde's eyes had shot open, all thoughts of sleep now lost as she scrunched her nose up at the thought of Noah Puckerman sharing the gory details. She nodded her head, urging her friend to continue.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted shyly. He glanced up at the blonde and saw compassion and understanding in her eyes which gave him the confidence to continue. "I mean, I really like her, she's like so spirited and vocal," he added with a smirk, "But seriously, I haven't properly dated someone I like. I just bang 'em."

"Wow," Brittany muttered. "So eloquent." She smiled. Puck shrugged. If anything, he was blunt.

"I am what I am man," he smirked. The blonde smiled. She loved how Puck would talk to her like she was one of his buddies. It was because of that she knew she had made a good friend in Puck.

"How did you woo Santana?"

"Did you just say 'woo'?" Brittany asked, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

Puck sighed. "Can you please take me seriously here. I don't want to mess this up."

"Wow," Brittany said again. She was taken aback by the tone of Puck's voice. "Ok, sure," she agreed. "I guess woo is actually the right word to use," she hummed with a wistful smile. "The moment I saw her she took my breath away, but she barely gave me a second look."

"So what did you do?"

"You know the story Puck."

"Kinda," he shrugged, "I can't say I was properly listening ..." his voice trailed off.

"You were imagining us together weren't you?" Without receiving an answer, Brittany continued with a shake of her head. "Pervert." Again Puck shrugged half apologetically. "I knew I had to get to know her. She was captivating, so beautiful and her eyes, ohmygod. She had this look that I just knew she was everything I had longed for."

"What do you mean?" Puck asked, confused.

"Santana is very expressive with her eyes. She communicates things she can't say," Brittany replied. It was one of her favourite parts of Santana because she knew that she was one of very few who could interpret those looks.

"Woah that's deep. But I don't think Rachel has that problem," Noah replied.

"Hmm you may have a point there." Brittany giggled. "Just treat her like a lady, make her feel special, like she's the only in girl in the world. Make it all about her."

"She'll love that." Puck smirked. Brittany smiled with him, very aware of the petite brunette's spitfire personality.

"I can't tell you what to do Puck and I can't compare her with Santana because they are so completely different." Brittany surmised, "look, she loves musical theatre, use your contacts to give her an experience she'll never forget."

"Oh a night with this and she'll be begging for more."

"So gross," the blonde muttered.

"You still haven't answered my question," Puck said, his tone turning serious again. "What was the moment you knew she was hooked?"

"Top of the Rock." Brittany sighed. "We'd had an amazing day together just exploring the City and I took her to Rockefeller and we reached the top just as the sun was beginning to set. It was beautiful. She was beautiful and captivating and there was this whole other look in her eyes that I hadn't seen before and it was like excitement and nervousness and bliss all rolled into one." The blonde took a moment to catch her breath. "And then I just went for it. I hugged her. I didn't care for consequences and she relaxed completely. That was another sign. But then a couple recognised me and wanted their photo taken and Santana," Brittany giggled at the memory and the incredulous look on Santana's face, "she was so pissed they interrupted. She just wanted them to go away."

"Wow." It was Puck's turn to be amazed by Brittany's words.

"I know right. I just knew. We were so right together. She just needed a bit more time to realise it, but deep down, she knew."

"You're whipped." Puck smirked.

"Yep. And you need to be careful, because liking Rachel means you're on your way too." Brittany laughed. Her joy was interrupted by the shrill ringing of her cell phone. The blonde reached into her pocket and pulled the item free. She looked at the screen and frowned as the name of her agent flashed across the screen. Placing the phone to her ear, she answered the call.

"Hey Holly, what's up?" There was a pause, her face contorted into a look of pure disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

xx

Brittany peered at her reflection in the large double glass door and straightened her face, having just received some disbelieving news. Setting her shoulders back, she took a deep breath and took a hold of the large door handles before her. Her arms widened as she pulled them towards her, opening the gap large enough for her to waltz through. Stepping over the threshold, she glanced around before her eyes landed on the beautiful brunette at a table near the window, basking in the sublime sunlight. Her hair glimmered as the sun bounced off the silken locks adding an extra sheen. A lopsided smile adorned the blonde's features as she approached her girlfriend sitting serenely at the table, reading her newspaper and sipping at a cup of coffee every once in a while. She admired the way the white fitted shirt clung to the chef's body and could just make out the curve of her ass in the stonewash jeans she had wriggled into that morning. Without wanting to disturb the other woman, Brittany snuck up quietly behind her, ran her hands gently over her girlfriend's shoulders and nuzzled her neck earning a satisfied growl.

"Not now, I'm expecting my girlfriend any minute," Santana whispered, placing a hand over one of Brittany's.

"That's not funny," the blonde said, leaning across the brunette to place a kiss on her lips. Santana smirked at the pout that formed on the dancer's lips as she pulled away. Poking the blonde's nose with her finger, she winked.

"You're the only girl for me," she reassured. "You know that," she concluded warmly. Brittany beamed before removing her bag and jacket, placing the items on one of the empty seats. She took the spare chair next to Santana at the round table, leaning over for another sweet chaste kiss.

"Mmm," she sighed. "If I could have you for brunch, I totally would." She smiled.

"And you would be asked be leave," Kurt said as he approached the table, coffee pot in hand.

"Hi Kurt." Brittany laughed as she blushed shyly, holding out her clean mug which the Matre D dutifully filled with the dark hot liquid.

"Good morning Brittany." Kurt returned with a smile. "Santana." He nodded at the chef. "Rachel will be over to take your order." Santana rolled her eyes. Another encounter with Rachel Berry was _exactly_ on her list of things to do, she thought with irony. As Kurt left the table, Brittany picked up Santana's hand in her own, turning it over, stroking it, and enjoying the feel of the skin upon her own. Santana stared down at their hands. Her eyes travelled up Brittany's cotton clad arm, over the lip that was caught nervously between her teeth, before landing on her pensive gaze.

"B," she said gently, causing the blonde to look up through her eyelashes. Santana shot her a questioning look, not wanting to force anything from her girlfriend.

"I had some news today," she began, quietly.

"Mmhmm." Santana nodded, urging the dancer to continue.

"From Holly," Brittany said. She chewed on her lip and tilted her head sideways, shaping the words in her head before she spoke them. "I don't know how it happened. I swear. I had absolutely no idea."

Santana narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Okay," she drawled slowly. Her heart suddenly beating faster in her chest.

"I sort of got nominated," Santana's face cracked a huge knowing grin while Brittany glanced suspiciously around her, "for a Tony Award," she whispered. The Chef squeezed the hand that was planted in her own. Her feet did a happy dance underneath the table and leant in closer to the blonde.

"Why are you whispering?" she herself whispered her own words.

"Because I just remembered, I'm supposed to be resting my voice," Brittany replied. "But I have a week off so I can totally rest it later right?" She nodded affirmation to her own question. "But seriously, San, I don't think I deserve a nomination," she added with raw honesty. Santana's head tilted sideways, her gaze filled with confusion.

"Of course you deserve it baby. You're incredible," she reassured, her free hand stroking up and down the blonde's arm. "Why do you think that?"

Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "I guess, because I'm the new girl and there are people here who have worked their whole lives to achieve a nomination. I don't know, I guess I just feel bad for those who weren't nominated."

"You can't control it Britt. The organisers clearly see something special in you. And so do I," Santana said with a wide, proud smile. "You're like the unicorn of Broadway Britt-Britt. Believe it," she concluded. Brittany's bottom lip trembled, overwhelmed with the emotions that were flooding her body. She opted to do the one thing she knew that would calm her and threw her arms around the brunette's shoulders, hugging her tightly, feeling her heartbeat against her own.

"How did I get so lucky?" she breathed in the scent of the brunette as she nuzzled into her neck once again."I love you so much Santana." Pulling the Chef closer, Brittany could feel her own heart pounding rapidly against Santana's. Never had she felt so at home, so loved and encouraged. Although she had received those comforts with her parents, Santana offered it on a whole other level. The brunette wanted to be with Brittany and had matured and grown significantly since being with the blonde. Brittany marvelled at the way Santana had taken on her struggles as well as dealing with her own. Although she sometimes felt that the Chef was using them as a distraction from her own. However, to the dancer, that did not matter, because ultimately she knew Santana would always put Brittany before herself. And whenever Santana would need her, the blonde would be there for her too, however proud the brunette was. Brittany pulled away slightly and glanced at the proud gleam in her girlfriend's eyes. Those big, lovable, brown eyes held so much emotion, Brittany could easily become lost. It was when a distinct sound of a throat clearing that brought her out of her daze did she realise how captivating those eyes were. Shaking her head, she watched Santana's gaze drift upwards and over her shoulder. The amused glint immediately flashed to what she recognised as fear before quickly turning to a guarded, stoic look. Her focus was on something or someone behind her. Tentatively, Brittany turned in her seat, following Santana's line of sight, her own shackles raised, in automatic defence of her girlfriend.

"Mom," she breathed, eyeing the one person she was least expecting to see. It was not until she felt Santana's hand squeeze her own that she realised she was clinging to the brunette. She turned to flash Santana a warm appreciative smile before she stood and turned to her parents. "What, err, what are you doing here?" she asked, confused. Waiting for an answer, Brittany shifted nervously on her feet, debating whether to move in for a hug. Her mind was made up for her as her father swooped in, his arms engulfing the blonde and sweeping her up in a lovable father/daughter cuddle.

"Hello pumpkin," Ray greeted when he finally pulled free, allowing his daughter to breath.

"Hey Dad." She smiled, playfully punching his shoulder.

"Your mother wanted to come and see you. I hope you don't mind?" he asked. Brittany looked at her nervous mother, clutching at her purse in her hands, her eyes darting from her feet to her daughter, to her husband and back to her feet again, avoiding the brunette now standing beside her daughter. "Santana," Ray greeted. He took a confident step forward and Santana's eyes widened as he wrapped his arms around her in another hug. The brunette smiled and relaxed, her arms hugging back with appreciation.

"It's great to see you again Ray." Santana smiled, before turning her attention to Brittany's mother. "You too Valerie," she offered, her smile genuine. Valerie nodded, obviously a little uncomfortable. She raised her greying blue eyes and met the warm brown orbs of her daughter's girlfriend. She smiled shyly before speaking. "Hello Santana. Brittany," she said, with another small nod.

"Mom," Brittany repeated. She stepped up to her mother, hesitating slightly before putting her arms around the older woman's shoulders. Valerie sobbed into her daughter's shoulder, the emotions overwhelming her completely. "Shh Mom, it's ok," the blonde reassured. Santana turned to look at Ray. A look of concern washed over her features. Ray nodded gently, a small smile indicating that while Valerie seemed visibly upset, she was simply working through her emotions. She had not seen her daughter since Brittany's birthday and had not spoken to her since the blonde revealed the truth about her relationship with Santana. Valerie had ultimately felt betrayed and was hurt by the secrecy and lies. Although, deep down, she knew the reasons for Brittany's silence. She had decided a surprise trip to the city would be an ideal way to work things out with her daughter, to see first hand how happy Santana made her daughter. It was a huge decision to make and she had felt every nerve in the fibre of her being, especially considering that her conscience taunted her and her teachings made her question the decision. Having witnessed such a tender moment between Brittany and Santana, raised a multitude of feelings within her, many conflicting.

After gently pulling away, Brittany looked at her mother with concern, taking a moment to glance at her girlfriend and her father who appeared to mirror her own expression. "Would you like to join us for brunch?" Santana asked, her voice wavering slightly with nerves. She waited, patiently, holding her breath for the answer. She watched Valerie as she weighed up her options, the emotions tumbling through her mind as she made a decision. Valerie glanced at her husband briefly, before settling her eyes on her daughter and her girlfriend.

"Did we interrupt?" Valerie asked, cautiously eyeing her daughter.

"Oh no, it's just brunch," Brittany replied breezily with a wave of the hand.

"I meant when we arrived, it looked like you were having . . ." she paused, looking for the right words. Santana's gaze shot towards Brittany, watching as the blonde furrowed her brow in anticipation of her mother's next words. "A moment," Valerie concluded.

"Err..." Brittany began. She cleared her throat, "I err, well I just found out some news," the blonde said. "And I wasn't sure about it and Santana was amazing and so sweet and telling me stuff and . . ."

"Baby slow down." Santana smiled as she stroked her hand down the blonde's arm. She was rewarded with a loving gaze and matching smile. "Tell them," Santana urged with a gentle shrug. Valerie watched the interaction between the two with renewed interest.

"What is it pumpkin?" Ray asked. Santana took Brittany's hand in her own and squeezed with encouragement, her eyes gleaming with love and pride.

Brittany bit her lip and jiggled up and down a little. It was something she had done since childhood when excited about something. Her parents recognised the trait and waited in anticipation of the news. "I err, I got nominated for a Tony Award," she gushed in a hurry.

"Oh honey, that's incredible news. Well done. I'm so proud of you," Valerie gushed back, stepping forward to hug her performer daughter.

"Congratulations Brittany! That's tremendous news," Ray stated with a proud beam. "I knew you would get one sooner or later."

"Thanks Dad," the blonde breathed with relief. She knew it was good news and her parents would be ecstatic, but a niggling feeling in the back of her mind still told her it was too soon. As if reading her mind, Santana ran a hand down the blonde's back, stroking her and soothing her negative thoughts. She shook her head, her silent instruction, telling Brittany not to think such nonsense. The blonde leaned into the brunette, hugging her side, thankful for her reassurance and belief. "So, will you stay?" Brittany asked hopefully. Three pairs of eyes watched the elder Pierce woman with baited breath.

"Yes, thank you," she said. Both Santana and Brittany sighed gently with relief, flashing one another a small victory smile. However, how conversation would pan out would be anyone's guess.

Conversation was slow. Emotions were high and the four occupants at the table were wary of what they could or should say to one another. The food arrived after a few minutes of small talk. They discussed weekend plans, how long the Pierce's were in town and Brittany explained her own and Santana's plans for the evening, barely containing her excitement for the event. She loved being a part of Santana's life and being her date to the awards evening made her feel like Santana was proud to show her off. Not that she ever had any doubt, but she knew the brunette's line of work was very male oriented and had potential to make Santana's working life more difficult. However, the Chef continued to shine, rising above every professional challenge that befell her. She was proud and incredibly happy to support her girlfriend in any way she could.

Although seemingly difficult and unsure, the time spent with Brittany's parents over brunch was progress. Even though Ray had given his blessing and was pleased for the young couple, he was also cautious with his words and actions in fear of upsetting his wife. He was the family rock, keeping the two girls grounded and in charge of keeping the family unit together. Whilst he was ecstatic to see his only daughter happy, he was also wary of how her relationship made his wife feel. It was not because it was Santana, of that much he was sure. Valerie had praised the young Chef and lauded her as a pleasant and polite person who had a positive influence on their daughter. She liked Santana and had said as much. It was because Brittany was in a relationship with a woman. It saddened Ray to watch his wife struggle and his daughter suffer because of her mother's upbringing and teachings. He vowed that with Brittany and Santana's help, he would re-educate his wife, show her how happy Brittany was and the positive influence Santana was in her life. He trusted the brunette, especially following that panicked phone call almost a week ago. He knew his daughter would always be safe, so long as she was with Santana. He had no doubt in his mind that the Chef would always put Brittany first and make every effort in making her happy.

xx

Beautiful. It was the first word that popped into Brittany's head. Stunning was the second. Breath taking, were the third and fourth. Next came the butterflies, then the gulp and the inevitable dry throat and severe lack of vocabulary. Her mouth hung open, her brain willing herself to say something. Anything. Santana stood in the doorway to her bedroom, fixing her earring as she exited the room. She smirked as she saw Brittany stock still in the middle of her apartment, mouth hanging open.

"Hu-" Brittany managed to vocalise, "-ba." The brunette froze and adorned a frown.

"Did you just say hubba!" Santana asked with incredulity.

"I . . . You . . ." Brittany shook her head, willing the words to fall from being trapped in her brain. Taking a deep breath she tried again. "Beautiful," she concluded with a defeated shrug. Santana truly had rendered her speechless. The brunette stalked towards her girlfriend, a predatory glint in her eye the closer she got. Brittany gulped once again. The sweet aroma of the Chef's perfume gently filled her senses causing her eyes to flutter heavily with lust. She opened her mouth once more, yet nothing escaped, until a gasp was heard after Santana captured her lips roughly and kissed her with fervour. The brunette's hands found themselves attached to the dancer's hips and pulled her closer. Her tongue darted out, inviting itself into the blonde's mouth. Brittany sighed heavily, feeling her muscles relax against Santana's body. Her arms snaked over the brunette's shoulders as Santana's inched further around Brittany's waist. The kiss slowed, lips and tongues moving softly against one another, hearts beating in unison, pounding and aligned with each other.

They were torn apart by a loud knock at the door. Two pairs of eyes wrenched away from one another and to the front door, before questioning gazes found each other. Santana's frown indicated the cogs turning in her head, the thoughts swirling around her mind before her eyes widened.

"Nooo," she gasped, her hand dramatically finding her heart.

"What is it?" Brittany asked with concern, her hand placed reassuringly on the brunette's back. The Chef began to walk toward the door, her heels clacking on the hardwood beneath her. She moved with a grace and beauty that Brittany admired from behind her. The black gown cloaked her body with perfection, clinging on in all the right places. The blonde's crystal blue eyes were hypnotised by the movement and the sway in the brunette's hips. Brittany was shaken from her trance when she heard a shriek of glee. Looking up at the open door, she glared with her mouth agape matching her girlfriend. Standing in the doorway were an older couple with striking dark features, crisp, luxurious attire and both perfectly groomed. Brittany identified them instantly as Santana's parents.

"Close your mouth honey. It's unbecoming," came the husky voice of the defined woman. She stepped over the threshold and held her hand up to Santana's face, wiping her thumb over the corner of her mouth, causing both the chef and the dancer to frown, "and your lipstick is smudged."

Shaking, Santana closed her front door as her parents ventured further into the apartment. She scrunched her eyes shut and took a deep breath, preparing herself with a big smile. She set her shoulders back and turned around, her head held high. She was greeted with the vision of her mother engulfing Brittany in a huge bear hug, pulling her tight. The blonde's eyes were wide, her arms flailing, unsure where to put them until she tentatively let her hands rest on Mrs Lopez's back.

"You must be Brittany," the older brunette said as she released the blonde. Brittany could only manage a shocked nod as Santana closed in on the small gathering.

"Mom, Dad, this is Brittany," she said with confidence. "My girlfriend," she concluded with a coy smile.

"It's lovely to meet you."

"You too Mrs Lopez," the blonde replied, finally finding her voice.

"Eva, please," Santana's mother scoffed, "and this is Roberto. But I'm sure he'll let you call him Rob," she added with a wink.

"Nice to meet you Brittany." Rob held out his hand. Brittany obliged and took the strong handshake with a welcoming smile.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming," Santana said, her arms crossed defensively across her chest.

"I didn't say we weren't Santana," her mother replied with matching accusation.

"You said you would see what you could do. That usually means no," the younger Lopez challenged. Eva closed her eyes and took a breath, knowing she would face the wrath of her daughter.

"Aren't you pleased we're here?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"No buts honey," Eva smirked, "we're here to support you and you," she turned back to Brittany, "are such a darling. Look at you." The blonde blushed under the scrutinising gaze of Santana's mother. She was very similar to her daughter. Their petite frame and bone structure were the same, with matching tumbling raven locks. It was almost uncanny, save for the telling signs of ageing on Mrs Lopez. Turning to Rob who was grinning from ear to ear, aware of his wife's antics, Brittany found the same smile as his daughter and the same gleaming, big brown eyes that had her captivated every time Santana would look at her. "And look what you've done to my daughter," she accused, causing blue eyes to widen with horror. Santana shook her head, encouraging the blonde to take no notice of the older woman's words. "She looks so . . ." Eva struggled to find the words, even looking skywards for guidance, before her eureka moment. "Relaxed." Santana raised a questioning eyebrow. "Oh come on honey. You're usually so uptight and defensive. I could sense the change in you immediately."

"She's right sweetheart," Rob began, "you have that glint back in your eyes." He explained, "and the perma-scowl has disappeared."

"That isn't even a word," Santana huffed, her arms across her chest tightened to emphasise her disdain.

"Oh there it is," Rob teased, earning a glare from his daughter and hearty laugh from his wife. Brittany looked bewildered standing between the two Lopez's. Santana stepped forward, taking Brittany's hand and pulled her away from her parents.

"As much as I would like to stand around here and have you mock me, we really need to leave if we're going to be on time," Santana said, a hint of hurt in her voice. Brittany squeezed her hand as Eva sidled up to the blonde and put her arm through the dancer's.

"Ooh we are going to have so much fun getting to know each other," Eva stated with over enthusiasm. Santana halted, raising her hand as her eyes grew wider and turned to her mother.

"Is that why you're here? Because you want to meet my girlfriend?"

"And because of the awards thingy, right sweetie?" Eva looked to her husband for confirmation. He nodded sheepishly. Santana raised her chin and narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

"So if you hadn't have found out about Brittany, would you have come?" she challenged.

"What does it matter honey? We're here now," Mrs Lopez replied with enthusiasm. Upon settling her eyes on her daughter's look of disdain, the disappointment in her eyes and the sadness in Brittany's, Eva took sighed before speaking again. "Santana," her tone changed, "I know I may have been less than understanding about your career choice, but having you cut us from your life hurt. You told me you moved away because of me and I'm sorry ok? So here we are, trying to make it up to you."

"If you knew your parents weren't supportive of your career, why did you invite them to this dinner thing?" Brittany asked, suddenly confused. It had not struck her before, but they were simply invited to the awards as guests, so inviting Santana's parents seemed a little out of place. "Ohmygod!" she exclaimed as realisation dawned on her. "You've been nominated haven't you?" she gasped. Santana blushed, a small nod indicated to the blonde that she was right. The blonde swiped at Santana's shoulder, "why didn't you tell me?" she whined.

"I," Santana started, suddenly finding a loss of words. She composed herself before continuing, "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Why?" Brittany asked, "I don't get it."

"I don't know." Santana shrugged, "I guess, I don't know," she admitted in defeat.

"She was embarrassed," Eva stated, "Santana is proud but she's not boastful and she knows how much you love and support her. So she thought it would be a lovely surprise for you to hear her name amongst the nominees as if she was sharing the reward with you." Santana looked at her mother, her mouth and eyes wide with surprise. "You may feel like I don't know you Santana. But I do and I love you," Eva admitted.

"You're nominated," Brittany whispered, a slow smile spreading across her porcelain features. She untangled her arm from Eva's and pulled Santana into a loving embrace. "I love you so much," she cooed as she nuzzled her nose against the brunette's silken locks.

"I love you too baby." Santana returned, adding a squeeze to her already tight hug. "Surprise!" she sang as she broke away, causing her girlfriend to chuckle.

"I'll always be proud of you, because you're so passionate about your work, so don't feel embarrassed or hide anything from me, ok?" Santana nodded in agreement with a light blush. "Although I totally appreciate the sentiment and will totally pay you back later," the blonde added with a wink. This time the Chef blushed, her eyes downcast, avoiding her mother's smirk and her father's uncomfortable stance. Although she knew that he too would have his gaze averted. After a moment's silence, she dared to look up. Her mother was surveying her surroundings with interest.

"This apartment is so small," Eva commented, earning a dramatic eye roll from her daughter.

"We're leaving. Now," Santana ordered, gesturing toward the door. "Come on!" The Chef shooed her parents back out of the front door and froze momentarily when she felt Brittany's arms wrap around her waist.

"Whatever happens tonight," she began, her voice low and sweet in Santana's ear, "you'll always be a winner to me, you're my rock," she said, placing a light kiss on the brunette's shoulder.

"Of course," Santana said, patting the clasped hands on her stomach. "I have you don't I? And I consider you my biggest success."


	14. The Start

A/N: A short one I'm afraid, it ties up the last chapter so I can move on with the story, so please forgive me. Also I apologise for the long delay, things have happened in RL that I couldn't get away from.

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><p>Crazy. It was one way to describe the day. However, upon second thought, it would describe the previous six months perfectly. Nothing had happened how she envisioned it. Her career had soared to a whole other level, she was getting the recognition she deserved by peers and other industry influences. She had her own apartment in probably the most famous city in the world. But to her, the one thing that had snuck up on her was the relationship she found herself in with who she believed to be the most incredible girl in the world, and yet there was still more to learn about her. The idea thrilled her. So far, every new discovery was like she was opening her eyes for the first time to Technicolor. It was exhilarating. Here she lay, the love of her life cradled in her arms, her mind drifting over the events of the evening as her eyelids grew heavier with sleep.<p>

xxx

"You didn't win," three words uttered, stung the brunette, not for the content, but for the tone. Accusatory would be the most accurate way to describe it, maybe even disappointed. It was one thing for Santana to be a chef, but if her mother were to accept her profession then she at least expected her to be the best. The young woman sighed, never would she live up to her mother's expectations. Feeling a slender pair of arms wrap snugly around her waist, she leaned gently against her support. The side of her head rested upon Brittany's collar.

"You're a winner to me babe," the blonde reassured with a gentle kiss to the top of her girlfriend's head. Santana's own arms wrapped tightly around the dancer, squeezing her appreciation.

"Love you," Santana mumbled into the soft skin beneath her lips.

"Now that," Eva beamed at full volume, "is what I call punching above your weight Santana Lopez. Well done you."

Several pairs of nervous eyes rested upon the two Latinas. Brittany's grip on her girlfriend tightened in warning, protecting the brunette from saying anything she may regret later. "It's ok." Santana urged as she gently untangled herself from the blonde.

"You're right," she conceded. She watched emotionless as her mother's jaw dropped. So seldom did her daughter agree with her or back down from a pending argument.

"I'm sorry what?" her mother asked in astonishment, almost stuttering over her words. Almost. So assured of herself was Eva Lopez, she would not be rattled so easily. If anything, the elder Lopez always kept her wits about her. She was prepared for any eventuality, however absurd it may seem to her.

"I said, 'you're right'," Santana repeated, her voice worryingly calm. "If this City has taught me anything, it's that anything is possible."

"I don't understand."

Santana shrugged at her mother's confusion. "I had always put my career first. You know that," she began. "And I found love when I was least expecting it, in fact, it found me. Brittany found me, she saved me and I'm not sure who else in the world could have done that because even my own mother had no faith in me."

"San-" Eva began, reaching forward. Santana snatched her hand away, her father offering a small apologetic smile as he took a hold of his tipsy wife's hand.

"Brittany is everything I could only ever dream of, so much, I gave up dreaming. After so many disappointments and set backs I didn't want to deal with it any more. I didn't feel like I was good enough for anyone," the Latina spoke with such honesty, tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill. The crowd that had stilled, now began talking quietly amongst themselves, awarding the Lopez's the privacy they deserved. Most of the people in the room were Santana's colleagues and friends and family of the restaurant staff. Brittany remained behind Santana, her hand resting supportively upon the brunette's back. "Brittany is so amazing and so special and beautiful and she chose me. So yeah, sometimes I don't feel like I'm enough for her, but I did win Mom, I won Brittany's heart."

The hand on her back twitched before she felt it leave her completely. The coldness forced the tears to spill from her chocolate brown eyes, her brow knitted together before she swept up in a crushing hug. Soft, tender words echoed through her ears, calming her almost instantly. Santana relaxed into the arms that had become her home. Her breathing evened out, the sadness dissipating slowly. She was disappointed, she was so sure her mother had turned a corner and accepted her career choice, yet a couple of glasses of champagne had inadvertently loosened her tongue.

What surprisingly did not bother Santana as much as she had thought was the fact her career now took a back seat. Sure she loved it, she gave it everything she had, Santana just did not spend as much time there anymore because now she had Brittany. The blonde had almost seamlessly fit into her life, their working schedules similar in the free time it afforded them and often times they would spend it together. It meant Santana was more amiable, approachable and agreeable at work, spending less time there meant it was quality time spent there and she had seen the benefits of it. In a way, she was a better Chef, certainly a better manager. Twelve months ago, had she been nominated for an award, the chef would have put in all the hours in the day to prove she deserved it. Now she was wiser.

"Hey," Brittany said, gently cupping the brunette's cheeks in her hands. When Santana refused to meet her gaze, she tried again, "hey."

The tears making tracks over Santana's soft skin broke Brittany's heart. She leaned forward, attempting to kiss the tears away with her lips, whispering soothing words of encouragement and love to ease the sadness that she saw in the brown orbs before her. The brunette attempted a smile, it grew as she saw the sincerity and love in the crystal clear blue eyes of her girlfriend. "Hey," she replied.

"I think she's had too much to drink," Brittany began.

"Don't," Santana said before a small hiccup escaped her lips, both women giggled, before the brunette spoke again. "Don't make excuses for her Britt."

"I just want you to feel better."

"I know," Santana smiled, "and I do. I've never felt happier."

"Those tears would disagree with you Miss Lopez," Brittany smiled. She hugged Santana closer, wrapping her arms fully and protectively around her body. "All mine."

"I love you," Santana offered, her voice muffled against Brittany's chest.

"You may have mentioned that," the dancer laughed, pulling away to look at the Chef's face. She shrugged before continuing, "but I'll never tire of hearing you say it." Brittany loosened her grip on the brunette and was rewarded with a pout. Laughing, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on the inviting lips before her.

"Oh must they, in public,." a distant voice was heard.

"Hey," a louder voice shouted across the girls aimed towards the other side of the room. Santana's eyes widened in horror as she watched her mother march passed herself and Brittany. The girls turned their heads, following the path of the elder Lopez. Mr Lopez hurried behind his opinionated wife. "I said, 'hey'," Eva almost bellowed. Once again the room grew quiet, emphasising the volume of Eva Lopez's voice. "Do you have a problem?"

"Erm, I just..." the quiet stuttered reply came.

"Are two people so obviously in love offending you?" Eva started, "You know this is a private party. I suggest if you don't like it, you leave."

"Wow," Brittany began.

"I know," Santana agreed, "she's like two different sides of the same coin."

"But a coin does have two sides," the blonde pondered. "Oh." Santana grinned as the penny dropped, smirking at her own pun.

"We were invited," a third voice spoke, deeper and louder. Brittany's head shot toward it, she ducked and dodged, trying to look around Eva and Roberto Lopez. She clung on to her girlfriend, squeezing her eyes closed, silently praying to the gods above she was wrong.

"Britt," Santana said, concern lacing her voice.

"I think our parents have just met," she replied, one eye inching open, just in time to witness the brunette's jaw drop. Santana quickly grabbed a hold of Brittany's hand and dragged her over towards the impromptu meeting of the parents.

"Oh really and just who would invite such big-"

"Mom!" Santana all but yelled as they approached the group. Eva snapped her head around and stared incredulously at her daughter, angry for being interrupted.

"Santana Lopez, can't you see I was defending your-" Mrs Lopez began.

"Mom," the Chef tried again, wishing her mother would take the hint and stop talking. Santana was sure Valerie Pierce's opinion of her relationship with her daughter would dwindle further if Eva were to continue in such a manner. "I see you've met Mr and Mrs Pierce." she emphasised the surname, sending her mother a warning glance. She was amazed at the sudden transformation of her mother as she stuck out a hand in greeting.

"Eva Lopez, how do you do?" Ray tentatively took a hold of Eva's hand and shook it firmly, his gaze drifting to his daughter and her girlfriend, nothing but embarrassment and shame plastered across the young chef's face. She knew her mother would offer no apology. If anything, Eva was an advocate of gay rights, particularly Santana's and she would never be ashamed of her daughter or her relationship. The brunette was grateful for it. In small doses. "While it is a pleasure to meet the parents of my daughter's delightful and gorgeous girlfriend, I still don't understand why you are against them sharing a little kiss."

Valerie scowled, she did not want to get into an argument about what she thought was appropriate behaviour with Eva, or with anyone. She had not meant for her comment to fall upon any ears, and it so happened to reach those of the proud mother of her daughter's girlfriend. She could sense a rocky relationship with Lopez's. "Mom," Brittany said, the elder Pierce looked at her daughter questioningly. Bewilderment painted her features, unsure how to take the scene that had just transpired before her. Her eyes softened at the pleading look in Brittany's honest orbs. She trusted Brittany and she liked Santana a lot and had come around to them being together, however the public kiss had knocked her sideways somewhat and after a glass of wine had felt compelled to comment. She now regretted it.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Valerie began, "I didn't mean to-"

"I know Mom," Brittany sympathised, giving her mother a hug. "I know it's hard for you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Valerie stated as Brittany stepped back accepting Santana's hand into her own, she gave it a squeeze and glanced at her girlfriend briefly before turning her attention back to her mother. "Mrs Lopez is right, you're so obviously in love and you have every right to show that. It's me with the problem, not you two and I'm sorry I treated you the way I did."

Santana's eyebrows hit her hairline, unsure if her hearing was playing an evil trick on her. All the while Eva stood by, her hands on her hips, head nodding up and down in an 'I told you so' manner. Her face smug and proud. Santana scoffed at her mother, it was so typical of her. The hand in her own was gone in an instant and her girlfriend had wrapped her arms around Valerie, releasing a small sob in the crook of her mother's neck. Valerie hugged her daughter back tightly as Ray and Santana watched, smiling in awe.

"You're welcome," stated Eva loudly. "Now where's my Champagne? Waiter!"

Santana laughed, the whole evening since they had returned to the restaurant for the party had been ridiculous. Following a very elegant awards ceremony, the after party became completely unscripted. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong until now. In a bizarre turn of events, Eva Lopez had been the one to turn Valerie's opinion of their relationship in their favour. She understood it was not completely her mother's doing. Valerie had been through a lot to come to terms with the fact Brittany was in a loving and committed relationship with Santana. Yet the missing piece of the puzzle came in the form of the very opinionated tone of one Eva Lopez. Santana did not know whether to laugh or cry. Either way, she looked at her mother with a new fondness, she was grateful, though she would never say so out loud within her mother's earshot. Her ego was large enough already.

xxx

Laying in bed together that night, both women could not be more grateful for what they had both achieved in life. But it was each other that they were truly thankful for as they both brought out the best in one another. Together they felt they could conquer anything, from wayward ex's to unruly and opinionated mothers. It had been a strange day, from start to finish. It had been a whirlwind six months which neither had expected. But it was the next day when they awoke in each other's arms and the next six months together that would be exciting, offering new challenges along the way. This was just simply the start.


	15. Jackpot

**Thank you everyone, you're the best :)**

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><p>Preparations for these types of functions always seemed a chore. And she was still relatively new to this. She did not think she could ever get used to trussing up, being pampered, making herself look how everyone else expected her look. She would much rather slob at home in sweats, hair tied back in a sloppy fashion and not a trace of makeup snuggled up to her favourite girl. Yes, those are how evenings in one's spare time should be spent.<p>

xx

Santana stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. It was a warm June evening, another night away from the pressure cooker that was the kitchen at Empire State of Mind. Another evening to be spent with the one woman she would quite happily spend the rest of her evenings with. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, yes she was in love with Brittany and yes their relationship was still fresh. But Santana struggled to think of a future without the dancer in it. In fact, she did not want to. Ever.

Tonight was Brittany's night. Santana had been the focus of attention several weeks ago when she was nominated for a prestigious award, of which she did not win. Tonight was Broadway's biggest night, the Tony Awards and Brittany was nominated for a best actress in a musical award.

Brittany had been through the same rituals as Santana, she was excited for the occasion, yet had realistic expectations of what the night would entail. The couple's new favourite mantra being 'I'm already a winner, I have you'. If Santana was honest then yes, she had been disappointed not to win, it was only human nature to feel such emotion, she was competitive after all. However, she knew the value of hard work and how far she had come at such a young age in a short amount of time. She had met countless Chefs much older than her struggling for their break, for the opportunity to run their own kitchen, and here she was, mid-twenties, already having achieved that accomplishment.

By no means had the chef given up, she felt like she had so much more to give. She was constantly learning, both in the kitchen and maturing as a person. There were a number of factors she was thankful for and the biggest influence always shone through, above all else. Brittany. Her inspiration. The dancer made Santana want to be better. She wanted Brittany to be proud of her not just at the restaurant, but as a girlfriend also. As proud as she herself was of her girl. She had heard the stories of a young Brittany Pierce dragging her parents across the country from one dancing competition to the next. Of a young blonde singing in front of a mirror with a hairbrush. She had heard of the financial struggles the family had met to keep up with Brittany's career demands. And although she had not known Brittany then, she was incredibly proud of the woman she had become. More often than not Santana found herself staring in her own mirror, questioning why Brittany had chosen her. What did she have to offer when there were so many other people better than herself?

No matter how many times Brittany tried to reassure her, there was always that small element of doubt in her mind, which she apportioned blame to her own mother. The drama the other week when the Lopez's met the Pierce's had reaffirmed the fact that whatever Santana seemed to do, it was never quite good enough. Even her own mother had suggested Brittany was too good for her. Brittany had spent all night, into the early hours of the morning proving just how wrong Eva Lopez was. To which Santana was left extremely satisfied and a firm believer in Brittany's methods of improving self esteem.

She owed Brittany. The blonde had been her saviour and it had taken immense effort on Brittany's part to defeat the insecurities and walls the chef had steadily built around her over the years. The dancer could see the cracks and ultimately, the beauty that lay beneath. She gently began to chip away, slowly revealing more and more before finally watching the guard crumble. Santana's eyes were open to a whole new world and it was illuminating.

Tonight she was going to help Brittany celebrate the dancer's awesomeness. The street was quiet, the traffic noise was unusually muted, possibly due to the thundering beat of her heart Santana heard echoing around her head. She was nervous. Nervous for Brittany, but nervous because this was their first major public appearance together. Santana was the plus one of Brittany S. Pierce, rising Broadway Star. However, now it was less rising and becoming more established. Brittany had worked tirelessly in the run up to the awards, giving press interviews and having photo shoots. The women had almost become strangers due to the amount of time Brittany was 'doing press' in between performing. But today was the day. Santana smiled as she climbed the small stoop and pressed the buzzer of the apartment building.

xx

Brittany sighed as she hooked the earring through her ear and fastened it, offering herself a small smile in the mirror before her. She was adding the finishing touches to her outfit as she awaited the arrival of her girlfriend. Tonight would be the end of a tiresome few weeks of press and performances. It also marked the pinnacle of her career. She had worked so hard for this moment. For the nomination she had received for a prestigious Tony Award. Brittany never expected that she would be nominated for such an award, she only ever dreamt of it, and never so early in her career. She had done it. All those sleepless nights sitting in the back of her parent's car as they drove her the length and breadth of the country had led to this moment.

Brittany was excited, despite the disappointment of the Chef missing out on an actual award, Brittany would always be proud of her and told her so in more ways than one. Santana was adamant that so long as she had Brittany, she was a winner, for Brittany was bigger and more invaluable than any prize. Every new moment spent with Santana, Brittany would fall deeper in love with her, whether it was a simple phone call or a sweet welcoming kiss. Brittany was giddy and just like Santana, she felt like she already had won the greatest prize on earth. Whatever the outcome tonight, she already had everything she dreamt of and more. Being so young and new to the industry, there was still ample time for Brittany to grow and develop as an artist, to gain further experience on Broadway and be nominated for Tony Awards in the future.

Brittany knew she constantly had to try and convince Santana that she was worth the dancer's love. They were very affectionate towards one another, though Brittany was aware of the insecurities Santana felt. She had no problem showering her with love, in an attempt to prove that Brittany loved her and that Santana should not doubt herself. Though she was also aware that the journeys people take, events in their history contribute to the people they become, to who they are today. Brittany knew of Santana's past troubles with love, with people who betrayed her and she made a promise to herself that she would do everything she could to show Santana how Brittany saw her. She had already made incredible headway in breaking down Santana's barriers and building on her previous insecurities. In just a few short months she knew for sure she loved Santana so much and would do anything for her.

She sighed once again as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Then she smiled. Brittany looked different now than when she first arrived in New York as a spritely, excited newbie in the business and the City. The wide eyed young performer had arrived with such high hopes and dreams on the crest of a wave of opportunity. Everything she encountered was so fresh and vibrant. It had all the hustle and bustle of London, yet it was incredibly different. The only thing the same was the working schedule she kept. The hours seemed mundane in comparison to the distracting bright lights and the attractions of the City. However, performing is what kept the dancer ticking over, it was her life blood. Until the day a sultry dark mysterious brunette chef entered her life. From that moment on, her life became just that much more exciting.

Brittany was looking forward to walking the red carpet with Santana on her arm. She could not wait to show off her girlfriend to the world. She wanted everyone to know she was in love with the beautiful woman and despite some inevitable resistance of their relationship from a minority, she was happy to prove that love trumps all. It had eventually worked with her mother. Their encounter at the party several weeks ago had been enlightening. Firstly, meeting Santana's parents was beyond interesting. Santana had been right about her mother, she was certainly a character, and more than one character it would seem.

However, it was Eva Lopez's outburst that prompted her own mother to reconsider her thoughts and beliefs of Brittany's relationship with Santana. After much heartache on Brittany's part, Valerie Pierce vowed to be honest with her daughter. She finally accepted Brittany was in a relationship with Santana and that they were very much in love. The dancer was elated, although a gathering the following day with both sets of parents had initially been frosty, the rest of the luncheon was largely painless. Trepidation remained as it was the first real meeting of the parents, particularly since the previous night's drama. Brittany felt incredibly positive about the future. Now, she was simply awaiting Santana's arrival.

xx

The limo ride was short. Santana sat quietly, eyes tracing the contours of the buildings as they crawled passed in the evening New York traffic. Her leg jittered, moving up and down, shaking with nerves. She clung tightly to Brittany's hand, sporadically feeling a gentle encouraging squeeze. Upon the last pressure she felt, tighter than the others, Santana whipped her head around. It took less than a second for her to seek out the caring blue eyes gazing back at her, questioning the Chef of her state. Santana offered a gentle nod and reassuring smile. "I'm sorry," she hastily offered. Brittany shook her head, her own smile taking over her features.

"It's ok," the dancer replied with an undeniable warmth. The look in her eyes was full of fire and understanding.

"It's your night," Santana spoke softly, her turn to squeeze at the hand that warmed her own. Brittany shrugged in an all too familiar way. She was as calm as ever, emanating a smooth confidence Santana envied.

"It's our night," replied Brittany with added indifference. Santana chuckled and shook her head. She loved how blasé Brittany could appear to be. She was like a graceful swan gliding across a serene pool, however, beneath the surface the feet were working at an immense rate to keep up the calm appearance.

"You're nervous," it was a statement, by now Santana could read the dancer and her emotions, simply from a look or body language. Brittany grinned. Santana constantly reminded her of why they were so right for one another. She nodded her head in affirmation, bringing her free hand up, almost pinching her thumb and forefinger together.

"A little," she agreed. She could never deny her love the truth. "I love you." This time it was Santana's turn to shrug.

"I know," she responded with a cheeky glint to her eye.

The limousine rolled to a stop, as did Santana's heart. Almost. She could now feel it pulsating all over her body as the opposite car door flew open, revealing the warm June air. Brittany reluctantly let go of her girlfriend's hand and slid across the leather and out of the door like a professional. Once outside she offered a huge smile and wave to the awaiting cameras and fans. Glancing back into the car, she caught a glance of Santana's not so graceful emergence, quickly stepping in front of her to protect her modesty. Unable to contain her grin, she glanced at Santana as she straightened beside her, a gritted teeth grin adorned her features. "How do you do that?" she asked, her lips remaining still. Brittany let out a hearty laugh, snaking an arm around her date and leaning close to the brunette, her nose brushing against Santana's ear.

"Practise," she stated with a whisper, "you'll get used it." she concluded with a wink. Santana melted, her cheeks relaxed and with a deep breath offered her first genuine smile in front of their audience.

"It's crazy," Santana observed. It was loud; there were screams and whoops, names being called, camera shutters sounding, distant car horns honking and the occasional emergency vehicle siren blaring.

"Welcome to the Tony Awards," A stranger's gentle voice was heard. Brittany ushered her girlfriend forward, venturing further onto the red carpet. The further they walked the more shouts of 'Brittany' she heard. Santana could not contain the pride she felt swelling in her heart. The love she felt for this woman beside her was growing by the second. She knew Brittany was good at her job, amazing even, but to hear other people appreciate her girlfriend's talent was almost overwhelming. Had she been alone, Santana would be feeling a tear trickle down her cheek right about now. But she was not alone and that did not mean she felt any less; Santana was holding it together for her girlfriend.

"They love you," Santana spoke quietly into Brittany's ear as they stopped for some photographs. Brittany giggled and shook her head disbelievingly. "Listen to them," she urged, "that's all for you."

"So crazy," Brittany replied.

"I love you so much," Santana smiled, leaning in to her girlfriend.

"I know." the dancer shrugged, before winking at the woman nestled into her side. Her grip around Santana's waist tightened, not wanting to let go. It was then she heard shouts from photographers for her to have solo shots. She pouted before reluctantly loosening her grip on Santana, stepping away slowly, offering an apologetic look, whilst mouthing 'sorry' to her other half. Santana nodded in understanding and stepped away from Brittany. Curiously she heard one or two shouts of her own name coming from the congregated photographers. Taking a deep breath she straightened up and smiled, offering her own pose to the cameras. Brittany glanced sideways, her grin reaching her ears as she saw Santana lap up her own attention. Whatever nerves Santana had been showing before, there was no sign of them now.

No sooner had they parted were they together again, slinking their arms around one another they moved forward to the line of reporters that were awaiting. "You loved that," Brittany teased.

"I kinda did," Santana laughed, "I'm surprised they knew who I was."

"Remember their job San," Brittany mused, "they get paid to know stuff. Aaaaand," she drawled, "you have kinda been on TV and you're kind of a big deal in food, I mean you got your nomination and your restaurant is _the_ go to place for Broadway glitterati." Santana laughed at the dancer's accurate description.

"I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right," Brittany grinned as she stepped up to a reporter with a cameraman and microphone.

"Brittany!" The reporter began, "How are you feeling about your award nomination?" she asked. Brittany glanced at Santana before she worded her answer.

"I'm excited. It was totally unexpected, I mean, I'm so new to Broadway so it was a complete surprise, but yeah, I'm very excited just to be here."

"You have a chance of winning, the bookies have you right up there," the reporter announced.

"I don't knooooww," Brittany drawled, "it's a dream, sure and I'll be psyched to win, but there are so many talented women in the category who have been doing this a lot longer and are far more deserving of the award."

"You totally do deserve it babe," Santana interrupted with a frown. The reporter sent a look her way, one she was unsure of, "sorry," Santana muttered. Brittany squeezed her arm tighter around her date.

"Santana's my biggest fan," Brittany laughed, "and my biggest inspiration."

"How long have you two been dating?" the reporter asked.

"That's a bit of a personal question," accused Brittany.

"You're going to break a few fan's hearts, knowing you're not single," stated the reporter, "they're going to want to know." Santana sent a glare the reporter's way, catching herself as she realised they were going to be broadcast.

"We met on opening night," Brittany smiled as she recalled the evening, "that was my winning night." She beamed with pride.

"Do you have a message for any aspiring Broadway or West End stars?"

"Don't ever give up. Work hard, play hard and keep your dreams in sight."

"That's some great advice right there," the reporter agreed. "Thank you for your time."

"You're welcome," Brittany smiled with a curt nod before turning, taking Santana with her. "I love that I can show you off," she said, her hand placed gently on Santana's back, guiding her forward. They made several stops on the way to the entrance of the Beacon Theatre, Brittany was a Public Relations dream, answering questions appropriately and keeping topics relevant. She would answer questions about Santana, albeit briefly without revealing too much about their personal life. Santana was happy to stand beside her and be the supportive girlfriend, listening intently with a permanent smile etched on her features. She was incredibly proud of Brittany and it seemed the previous weeks full of press and PR had built confidence and poise in Brittany and prepared her for the red carpet.

"You're such a pro at this," Santana teased as they entered the theatre. "It's like you've been doing it for years."

"I've had my fair share of red carpet moments," began the blonde, "I attended a few events in London and one or two when I first arrived here, but nothing on this scale. I've never been nominated for such a huge award before."

"Maybe not, but there'll be many more to come," Santana pointed out, "I'm sure of that."

"Well then you had better get used to all this attention, because you will be with me," Brittany flashed a genuine smile.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," Santana agreed, stealing a brief kiss from her girl.

Xx

It was Brittany's category, it seemed to have taken an age to get there, yet no time at all, it really was a bizarre feeling. They had held hands all evening, not once letting go. Santana was keeping Brittany grounded, she also used the dancer's touch as a comfort, for she was nervous on Brittany's behalf. The names of the nominees were called, the two women smiling at one another when they heard Brittany's name. Santana mouthed 'I love you' to the nominee sat beside her, squeezing her hand for emphasis. Brittany took a deep as the announcer slowly opened the envelope. This was the moment. She could hear her heart pounding heavily in her ears, the pulsating in her chest was rapid and unforgiving, the hand in her own offered a magnitude of love and support. The announcer looked up. His lips began to move, but no sound penetrated her ears. Brittany could not hear a word above the thrumming of her pulse, the hammering of her heart pumping. She felt a pain in her hand as it was squashed impossibly tight, people were jumping to their feet. Brittany looked around her, perplexed, there were eyes on her, hundreds of eyes upon her. Santana pulled her up, throwing her arms tightly around the performer, hugging her close. Brittany was confused, with no clue what was happening, until Santana's voice penetrated the muffled bubble she was currently residing. A flood of sound crashed through her ears, clapping, whoops and again, Santana's voice, as clear as anything she will ever hear in her life.

"You won," Santana breathed, apparently not for the first time, "baby you did it."

"I, I," she stuttered, "I don't understand," Brittany said, shaking her head in disbelief, "it's not possible."

"Baby," Santana said sternly, garnering her girlfriend's attention. She placed a hand either side of Brittany's head, her thumbs stroking lovingly over the soft skin of Brittany's cheeks as she forced her to gaze into her sincere brown eyes. "Baby you won."

"I won," Brittany repeated, realisation slowly settled in, "I won!" she screeched before launching her lips at Santana's. PR be damned, she won and she was going to kiss her girl.

"You won," Santana grinned, "I think you better go up and accept that bad boy."

"Yeah," Brittany breathed through a laugh. She stepped into the isle and walked up to the stage, accepting a number of congratulations and pats on the back along the way. Once on stage, Brittany took the award into her hands and stared at it. Surprised at it's weight. The first thing she noticed was her name etched into it at the bottom. Forcing the lump in her throat down, she stepped up to the microphone. Shaking her head, she let out a shaky laugh before she composed herself.

"I can't believe this," she began, "really, I can't. There were so many seasoned pro's in this category who I feel deserve this more." She took a moment to look up and bit her lip, nerves creeping into her being. She had been on a stage in front of hundreds of people thousands of times before, but always as someone else, never had she stood on a stage with an audience as Brittany S. Pierce. She felt incredibly naked and vulnerable. "I have to thank my parents, for carting me around the country when I was younger, helping me fulfil my dreams. I also have to thank the production team of this very show in the West End, for helping me grow as a performer, which led me here, to Broadway. I want to share this award with my colleagues, my professional family because every show is a team effort." She paused, taking a moment to seek out Santana in the crowd. She was watching with pure adoration, her hands clasped over her heart as Brittany's words poured out, "and lastly I want to thank Santana, my inspiration," she sighed heavily and happily, "just, wow. Again, everyone, thank you."

Santana watched the beauty glide gracefully off the stage. Tears had welled up in her eyes threatening to spill over at any moment. She willed them to stay, yet she was so proud and felt so emotional watching her girlfriend on the stage accepting the award. Forgotten was her own disappointment in not winning her own award, to her it simply didn't matter. She wanted every success and happiness to come Brittany's way, because if Brittany was happy, Santana was happy and that was satisfying enough for the Chef. She knew she was good at her job, she did not need the awards to show it, in a business like hers, it was the joy and satisfaction of people enjoying her food. It was filling the restaurant with people, it was the waiting list for reservations, the food reviews, the team work in her kitchen. It was the fact she could rely on and trust her kitchen staff to run the place in her absence. She did not need an award for that, though she would not lie, it would have been nice. For Brittany's profession it was different, show business thrived on awards shows and was all a part of the razzmatazz and lure. It also negotiated pay cheques. Not that Brittany was like that at all. Brittany loved her job. She had worked hard since she was a child to get to where she was today and all the deserved attention was on her. This award would open many doors for the performer, it would effectively make her famous. Santana wondered for a brief moment how she would cope with that. She would cope with anything, so long as she was with Brittany.

Xx

The winner of the Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role in a Musical and her girlfriend, found themselves walking through the front doors of Empire State of Mind where they had hosted an exclusive viewing party of the Tony Awards. As they strolled through the doors, hand in hand giggling like school girls, a loud applause erupted. They had already battled through a number of paparazzi awaiting their arrival on the street, now they faced an excited and jubilant crowd of party goers, supporters and colleagues. Brittany glanced at Santana who nodded her agreement, the performer let go of Santana's hand and ventured in, with her award through the throng of people. Santana, once again, watched on with adoration.

"Your girl did good," came the voice from beside her. She glanced up to see Quinn grinning widely at the scene before them.

"She did," Santana sighed, "I can't tell you how proud I am of that woman."

"I can see it," Quinn offered, "your eyes are shining in a way I've never seen before." Santana frowned and looked at her colleague who nodded to emphasise her point, "I was so stupid to ever think I had a chance with you. Hell I didn't even believe that I did."

"Quinn, don't," Santana warned, they had moved passed the incident and had been getting along great as colleagues first and then as friends.

"Just, hear me out ok?" The restaurateur all but begged. Santana silently nodded her assent with caution, hoping that whatever Quinn said would not ruin her evening. "Thinking about it, I seriously cannot believe I made a pass you, I don't know what I was thinking. I knew you loved Brittany, I didn't even want to hit on you."

"Gee thanks," Santana joked, laughing nervously.

"No, I mean, you're beautiful, sure, but I'm not attracted to you, I never was. Sam had ended our relationship, you had a fall out with Brittany and I had no idea what I was thinking." she explained.

"That barely makes sense. But I guess the whole thing didn't make sense," Santana reasoned.

"All I ever wanted was to be your friend," Quinn explained, she held her hands together neatly in front of her, briefly dropping her eyes to her clasped hands before returning her hazel eyed gaze to her friend. "The way you kept everyone at arm's length, you were a challenge and I have to say, I'm a sucker for a challenge."

"That does not," Santana's voice rose. She glanced around cautiously before lowering her voice to a harsh whisper, "that does not give you the right to kiss me."

"I know, and I am _so_ sorry, I overstepped the mark and nothing like that will ever happen again, I assure you," Quinn promised, she raised her hands in an almost prayer like gesture.

"Just do me a favour?" she requested with a sigh. Quinn nodded in agreement. "Never mention it again."

"Is Brittany mad with me?" Quinn ventured, curiously. They had not had many encounters since, the dancer always seemed preoccupied talking with someone else whenever Quinn had been within reaching distance of her. What the restaurateur was unsure of, was whether it was a ploy to keep her at bay.

"She was, of course she was, "Santana began almost wistfully, recalling her girlfriend's displeasure at the situation, "I was too and I'm pretty sure you were mad at you..." she trailed off, "but now it's nothing. OK?"

"Ok," Quinn agreed breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"No worries," Santana replied, "now where's my champagne? You're a lousy hostess Fabray."

"Santana! Santana!" Santana rolled her eyes, recognising the voice immediately. Quinn smirked at the woman beside her before deciding to hunt down a glass of bubbly for her friend.

"Rachel freaking Berry. What a surprise!" exclaimed Santana, her tone oozing with sarcasm. She took a moment to take in her surroundings as her colleague approached. Since she walked through the door, Brittany had disappeared into the crowd and she was left alone, an awkward conversation taking place with Quinn. Now she was to endure Rachel Berry's arduous rambling. Tonight was not quite working out as planned. She was supposed to be Brittany's date for the whole evening, however, since arriving at the restaurant, any onlooker would assume they had not arrived with one another.

"Can I just say," Rachel began, 'no' Santana thought, yet smiled and nodded politely, "that I am so happy for Brittany. I have seen her performance no less than five times," Santana's eyes widened at that revelation, "and she is thoroughly deserving of the award. I knew she could do it."

"While I appreciate that you have seen my girlfriend perform more times than I have, why don't you tell her yourself?"

"I would, but if I'm honest Santana, I'm a little star struck," admitted the waitress. If possible Santana's eyes widened even further, she was sure they could pop out at any second. Chuckling at her own absurd thoughts, Santana composed herself and tilted her head before replying.

"You've met Britt tons of times, what's the matter with you hobbit?"

"Now she has won such a prestigious Broadway award and beaten some of the biggest names in the industry, I just don't think I will be able to contain myself if I talk to her. I mean she's Brittany Pierce," Rachel chatted animatedly.

"Yeah, Brittany Pierce," Santana stated, "she's the same woman who was sat here having breakfast yesterday, who you so annoyingly decided to list your whole Broadway soundtrack collection to."

"It's different now Santana," Rachel said shaking her head before walking off. Santana was left, Rachel's parting words pinging around her head like a wild pinball, 'it's different now'. She looked across the restaurant, catching her girlfriend laughing and joking with people she didn't recognised. As blue eyes lifted to meet brown, an instant grin formed on the blonde's face that radiated through her gaze. Santana felt her own lips lift into an instant smile, Rachel Berry and her words now free from her mind. Brittany Pierce was still Brittany Pierce, Santana's Brittany.

Xx

Perched upon one of the high bar stools, Santana sat wearily, her head resting upon her hand. The clink of a bottle startled her, made her jump a little and her eyes opened having closed automatically when her head had made contact with her hand.

"Long day?" she heard, a familiar voice penetrating her mind. She frowned, her eyes heavy lidded, she slowly, painfully lifted her head and turned towards the voice. Santana smiled lazily, one particular memory flooding back to her with force. She opened her eyes and was met with the stunning gaze of a blue eyed beauty. Santana nodded her response to the question posed by her girlfriend. "You look how I feel," Brittany stated, sipping a clear liquid from a tumbler.

"Oh yeah? And how's that?" Santana asked curiously, her head now propped up on her hand, her elbow providing the support. She could not help the wide grin that graced her features, this very conversation an echo of the one that took place six months ago on opening night. The very night she first set eyes on the beauty before her.

"Tired," Brittany mused, tilting her head to the side in thought, "but you'll always be beautiful to me, no matter what."

"Good to know," Santana winked.

"The lady bought you a beer." Sam said, motioning to the bottle beside the Chef. He turned and continued to clean up the bar for closing. Santana could not help but shake her head as she chuckled.

"Is this your way of apologising?" Santana asked. Brittany looked at her with confusion, "I've had Berry in my ear night, like some crazy chirpy happy thing, while you mingle like a pro," she said, taking a swig from the bottle. "Thanks." she said, tilting the beer toward the blonde.

"You're welcome," Brittany replied, "and I guess I'm sorry for abandoning you."

Santana shrugged, she shook her head and smiled as she brought the bottle to her lips once again. She took in a long sip of the amber liquid, "you don't have to apologise honey. It's your night, you deserve all the love and attention and congratulations."

"Hmm," Brittany hummed as she scooted closer, "has anyone ever told you you're the best girlfriend ever?"

Santana thought for a moment, her brow furrowed, "actually? No."

"I feel bad for them," Brittany began, "because you Santana Lopez, are the best girlfriend ever." Inching closer, Brittany closed the gap between them and captured Santana's lips with her own. She could taste the cool beer upon her lover's lips. Santana took a hold of Brittany's waist and pulled her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The fabric of their dresses caressed one another, the fine materials becoming one, as did the two women so obviously in love. Brittany's arms lay rested over Santana's shoulders, fingers idly playing with strands of hair as Santana slipped her tongue, first through her own lips, then through Brittany's. The two kissed as if they were the only two in the room, forgetting where they were. The party guests had left, leaving a small handful of staff clearing up around them, not one stopping to take notice of the lovebirds. Pulling away ever so gently, Brittany smiled as she rubbed her nose against Santana's. "I love you so much," she whispered.

"Me too," Santana said, "I love you, I don't love me, no, I love me, I..." Brittany cut her off with a chaste kiss.

"So cute."

"Get a room ladies," Kurt said as he so eloquently swept passed, causing Santana to roll her eyes.

"Hey, did you know my girlfriend is a Tony Award winner?" Santana teased.

"Yes Santana," replied Kurt with an eye roll of his own. "I'm very aware of that."

"Good," she smiled triumphantly.

"I think," Brittany grinned with a mischievous glint in her eye, "that we should take Kurt's advice." Santana smirked, her thoughts jumping to the exact meaning behind her girlfriend's words. "I do believe I've neglected you this evening and that just won't do."

"No," Santana shook her head, "no it won't do at all."

"I think I have some making up to do," Brittany said, nuzzling her nose into Santana's neck.

"I couldn't agree more," Santana sighed, feeling the warmth of Brittany's lips against her skin, "I also think," she gulp as Brittany nipped at her flesh, "that I must congratulate you properly."

"Mmm," Brittany replied, her lips still firmly attached to Santana.

"Baby," Santana began, reluctantly pulling away gently from her girlfriend, "baby." Santana coaxed Brittany, forcing her to look into her very persuasive eyes. "Home," she ordered, taking Brittany's hands into her own. She rubbed her thumbs over the soft skin and carefully brought both hands up to her lips and placed a sweet kiss on them.

"Home," Brittany grinned, she sincerely enjoyed the sound of that. It didn't matter to whose apartment they would retire, to her, home was wherever Santana was and she strongly believed that the feeling was mutual.

Xx

And like the opening night of Brittany's musical, the performance that had brought them to this moment, the cab ride was a quiet one. Instead of a nervous energy bouncing around the back of the taxi, both women sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the feel each other's soft touch in each of their hands. Brittany eyed the woman beside her, and could not feel any happier. Every time she looked at Santana, her heart soared and the butterflies in her stomach raged with excitement. Santana was her everything. Imagining her life now without Santana was like believing she could live without air. It was an impossibility. Brittany would do everything she could to make Santana smile, to watch the sparkle dance in her eyes as she laughed, to gaze lovingly at the crinkle that would appear on her nose and the dimples in her cheeks that teased Brittany's melting heart. She sighed with content, her head dropping back against the worn material of the seat and watched as the buildings zoomed by the window as they passed. New York felt like home. Her career was here, her love was here. She had everything she could ever dream of and her life was only just beginning. Brittany was getting the recognition she had not necessarily sought but her talent and hard work had afforded her.

"What are you thinking about?" the hoarse voice broke her haze. Brittany smiled as the voice oozed through her being. She turned her head and caught Santana's intrigued gaze, her deep brown eyes offering so much more than she could ever imagine.

"You," Brittany blushed, a shy smile creeping across her face. Santana raised a questioning eyebrow. "And me." Brittany replied. "And all of this." she waved her hand around in the air.

"This?"

"Life," Brittany responded with a sigh.

"Are you happy?" Santana asked tentatively. She watched as several emotions passed through the crystal blue eyes before her. Santana knew Brittany was contemplating her words and furrowed her brow in confusion. Because without doubt Santana would have answered the very same question instantly with a 'yes'. To have Brittany hesitate was disconcerting. Brittany squeezed Santana's hand in her own as brown eyes widened slightly. Santana's heart sped up, almost with dread as she began to anticipate Brittany's next words, a worst case scenario playing out in her mind.

"Happier than I have ever been in my life and it's because of you," Brittany smiled warmly, calming her lover's nerves somewhat.

"There's something else," Santana stated, rather than asked, however, she knew Brittany would afford her an answer. The dancer was always open and honest with her and for that Santana was eternally grateful.

"San," Brittany began, taking a deep breath, "tonight I reached my ultimate career goal and now I'm kinda stuck."

"What do you mean?" Santana asked.

"I need a new career goal," Brittany shrugged. "What do I aim for now? I mean, with you, there's so much more to come and I love you so much and I am so excited about our future and if I'm really honest, I could not even have a career and I would still be the happiest girl in the world, but..."

"I would never ask you to give up your career for me, you love it too much," Santana interrupted with urgency.

"I know honey," Brittany smiled reassuringly, she brought their clasped hands into her lap. "My dream was always Broadway and then my dream was a Tony and I got those in the same year, this year, it's crazy, who does that happen to?"

"You," Santana cooed, she leaned in for a quick kiss, "you're incredible."

Brittany blushed once again at the compliment, "Thank you." she replied.

"So now you feel like you need a new dream," Santana stated.

"Yes," Brittany smiled.

"Well hey," began Santana, she looked at their fingers entwined with one another and placed her free hand over the top of them before taking in Brittany's eager and enthusiastic gaze. "You don't have to decide now. Enjoy this moment, then maybe we could take a vacation and figure it out together." Santana murmured the last part with a slight hesitancy, unsure if she may have overstepped a boundary. "If you want to, of course."

It took another moment for Brittany to respond, the words sinking in and being processed, "Of course!" she exclaimed, "So, are we like going on vacation together?" she asked with a childish excitement.

"Yeah sure." Santana laughed, Brittany's reaction was infectious.

"We're going on vacation!" Brittany squealed before pulling her girl in for a hug and a kiss, "I can't wait to get you in a bikini." she whispered with sweet conspiracy against Santana's lips. Santana laughed and returned the favour, offering Brittany a sweet kiss. A loud cough burst their little bubble in the back of the taxi cab, the two women having forgotten their surroundings, only having eyes and ears for one another.

"Sorry," Santana muttered, searching for her purse having realised they had rolled to a stop. She paid the driver and waited for Brittany to exit the cab first. She shuffled across the seat, following her girlfriend out of the door and into the cool night air. She stepped up to Brittany and offered a warm arm around her shoulders as a slight shiver shook the blonde. "You ok?"

"I am now," Brittany smiled, her award clutched tightly in her hand. She snuggled closer to Santana and guided her toward the stoop of the building. "Home."

"We always land up at my place," Santana laughed nervously as she took her keys from her purse. She was very conscious of the fact Brittany had labelled it 'home' yet was timid to address it.

"I like it better than mine," Brittany shrugged. "I just love the Village. And you're here and I love you." she stated simply.

Santana paused at the door, she chewed on her lip as she watched Brittany speak her words so simply. The blonde was breathtaking. It had been a long day and she knew Brittany was tired, yet she looked as fresh as when Santana had turned up at her apartment earlier that evening. Santana was flagging, she had seen the dark circles beneath her own eyes when she looked at her reflection in the mirror at Empire State of Mind. It was right now she had two realisations. One, to suggest a name change of the restaurant to simply, 'Empire' or 'Mind' to give the restaurant more of an edge - that would take some discussion with Quinn. And two, "Move in with me." she stated, her own voice startling her.

Brittany stood stock still, slightly stunned that Santana had spoken so abruptly after her prolonged silence. "I'm sorry, what now?" Brittany asked, believing her ears had deceived her.

"Move in with me." Santana replied with a steal determination. It felt liberating, to say such words and not be afraid. Brittany set her free, free from what demons she once harboured. Free from the confines of her own fears and doubts. Santana now had no doubt in her mind that she wanted to wake up to Brittany every morning and lay down with her every night. The first and last thing she saw in between dreaming of the woman she loved.

"I need to buy a lottery ticket." Brittany stated in a daze.

"A what? Why?" Santana asked, with slight annoyance.

"A Tony, a vacation and now this?" she replied, "Santana I," Brittany took a breath, her heart pounding a million miles a minute, "yes, I'll move in with you!" she all but yelled, flinging herself into her girlfriend's arms. "Yes, yes, yes, a billion times yes!"

"So that's a yes then, right?" Santana smirked. Her own heart beating out of her chest, mostly from relief.

"Yes!" Brittany squealed. "Can we have sex now?" she breathed into her girlfriend's ear.

"I was counting on it." Santana retorted, hurrying to open the door. She took one last look at the quiet Manhattan street before she turned and ushered her girlfriend in to their apartment. Their apartment. Santana smirked, she had hit the jackpot.


	16. Together

**Firstly, I want to apologise for taking so long for posting this and if there's anyone out there still willing to read it - a massive thank you! Also thank you to everyone who has reviewed this fic, it means a lot. And to those who have messaged me since the last posting, I appreciate your words, thank you. **

**Ok, now on with it, you may need to re-read previous chapters!**

* * *

><p>Together, it's how they were. It is how they were ever meant to be. Their paths may have crossed in the past, they had travelled similar paths, geographical, physical, mental, spiritual, they were brought together. One fateful day they found themselves side by side, sitting at a bar, of all places. A connection was formed, one which would grow and mature, one which would be tested and tried. But the outcome was one. Together.<p>

xx

"Britt," Santana breathed, her girlfriend making a pleasurable assault on her neck, "Britt, baby." she said with more urgency, straining her head in an attempt to detach Brittany's sweet lips from her skin.

"Uh huh," came Brittany's response, her focus very much on the incredibly hot woman beneath her. Barely registering Santana's futile attempts to slow her down, Brittany's hand moved from the waist below her, making a scorching path up the toned torso, the white tank top receding with it, like a wave exposing golden sands. Her hand reached its destination and groped fondly at the bare breast beneath. Santana groaned with pure pleasure. She loved when Brittany was in one of these moods, however, her girlfriend was using it as an avoidance tactic, something she was an expert at.

"God, Britt," Santana moaned, her head hitting the pillow beneath her once again. This was not how it was supposed to be.

"That's right baby," Brittany smirked, briefly glancing up to watch Santana writhe beneath her. She dipped her head, capturing Santana's lips with her own, forcing another moan from her girlfriend. Santana widened her cotton clad legs, encircling them around Brittany's waist, forcing the other woman flush against her. Brittany grinned. Mission accomplished. She continued her oral exploration of her girlfriend's mouth, Santana lapping up as much of Brittany as humanly possible. Brittany was her drug and she simply could not get enough. With one hand entangled in blonde locks, her other hand took a firm grasp round Brittany's neck, locking her into position. Brittany loved this possessive side to Santana, it was like she was holding on for dear life, afraid to ever let go. Brittany hummed her approval before detaching her lips from her lover. She was desperate to taste elsewhere, to put her talents to use in a way only Santana knew how. She knew that her tongue was the complete undoing of the usually composed woman before her.

"Kiss me," Santana all but begged, lunging towards Brittany's lips. Feeling a finger upon her lips she pouted and watched as a daring twinkle danced within the blue eyes.

"Oh I will," Brittany winked, wiggling her hips against Santana. The friction against her caused her to jolt, the sudden need for her girlfriend became too much. Freeing the girl from the confines of her legs gave Brittany permission to continue with her plans. The next plan of attack was Santana's now exposed stomach, Brittany licked and kissed her way down the squirming torso beneath her. With every move she could feel Santana's breath becoming more shallow, the pull of her girlfriend's need dragging her lower down her body. As Brittany's chin hit the waistband of her sweats, Santana bucked her hips off the bed, a hint to her girlfriend to remove the offending item. Brittany smiled at the eagerness in her lover and teasingly slipped a finger into the waistband.

"Off," Santana writhed her body, desperate for Brittany, "now." she demanded. Raising her eyebrows questioningly, Brittany obliged, albeit agonisingly slowly. The further down her legs the sweats went, the more desperate Santana became. Her building anticipation was becoming unbearable, she had an itch that needed scratching and urgently. However, Brittany was taking her own sweet time, ever the patient one, she was a firm believer in the phrase, 'good things come to those who wait.' With a pause and an undeniable smirk, Brittany bit her lip in amusement. At the loss of movement, Santana scowled, her head reaching up from the pillow with monstrous effort. "Brittany," she growled, frustrated with the lack of urgency. She furrowed her brow in confusion, taking in her girlfriend's amusement. "What the hell?"

"Can we just take a minute to appreciate these…" Brittany stroked a finger down the front of Santana's panties, chewing her lip, deciding upon the best word to use. Santana shivered at the contact, her eyes fluttered closed, a gasp escaping her lips. "These, bloomers?" Brittany questioned, unsure if she had used the right word. Santana's eyes shot open, she looked down in realisation, horror streaked across her features.

"They are not bloomers," she hissed, reaching down in attempt to cover them up.

"Oh no," Brittany giggled, "no you don't…grandma."

"Shut up!" Santana whined, her cheeks reddening by the second. "They are not bloomers." she stated sadly.

"Bit of a passion killer though," Brittany mused.

"B come on, don't leave me hanging here," Santana whined again.

"I dunno Santana, the eyes cannot unsee…" Brittany teased. She began drawing patterns across the expanse of fabric before her.

"All my good stuff is packed, you know that," Santana began in way of explanation, "I was not expecting…" she waved her hand around the bed, "this."

"We always do this," Brittany stated in bewilderment.

"Yes, but we have to be at the airport in like," Santana glanced at the clock, "4 hours. We've had no sleep."

"Sleep on the plane," Brittany shrugged, "unless…"

"I am not becoming a member of the mile high club Brittany Pierce."

"You're no fun," Brittany pouted with disappointment. Santana raised her eyebrows in a challenging glare, "ok," Brittany conceded, "you're fun, but don't you want to do it on a plane, thirty thousand feet in the air with a whole bunch of smoking hot, air stewards in uniform?" Santana tilted her head to the side, now leaning up on her elbows. "Oh I just realised how that sounded." she said with a laugh.

"Whatever, this is not helping the current situation," Santana said sternly.

Brittany nodded, "right." she lowered her head and placed a delicate kiss upon the cotton of Santana's underwear. "Back to work."

"This is not a chore Brittany," Santana growled, a hint of sadness reaching her eyes. Immediately feeling guilty, Brittany climbed up Santana's body and kissed her soundly, expressing her love and devotion in the action. Gently pulling away she smiled and placed a delicate kiss to Santana's nose.

"I love you Santana, so much," she began, her words singing from her heart, "don't ever believe I think of any of this as a chore." Her eyes portrayed the love and sincerity.

"Then why haven't you moved in with me?" Santana blurted. Brittany sat back on her heels, stunned at the sudden outburst.

"You want to discuss this now?" Brittany asked. "You know I practically live here already. I sleep here every night. Every night Santana." She began, "ok, maybe not _sleep_ every night, but you catch my drift."

"All your stuff is still at your apartment, which you extended the lease to." Santana sat up.

"My Mom did that," Brittany shrugged. "San, I love you, like more than a lot, I don't think there's even a word for it." Brittany explained, "My Mom extended the lease, you know what she's like and I am practically living here. I love it here, I love being with you. It just means my Mom and Dad can stay at the apartment when they come to town. That's all. As far as I'm concerned, I live here, with you. My toothbrush is in your sink. My underwear is in your laundry, my Lucky Charms are in your cupboard."

"Yeah, you need to move those into the kitchen Britt Britt, we need space in the bathroom cupboard for towels." Santana smiled bashfully.

"I know you feel insecure sometimes baby, but I promise you," Brittany took Santana's hand and held it over her heart, "that I love you and I'm not going anywhere." she brought their joined hands up to her lips and kissed the back of Santana's hand. "And I'll move my Lucky Charms, even though they prefer the humid climate of the bathroom cupboard." Santana laughed, she adored her girlfriend and all the little quirks the blonde offered.

"And it's not my sink or my laundry, it's ours," Santana clarified.

"Ours," Brittany repeated. She crawled over to Santana and kissed her soundly once again, her hand cupping the smooth cheek of her girlfriend. Such tender moments were her favourite. Very occasionally she would have to reassure Santana that they were on the right path, that Brittany was wholly committed to her and their relationship and showing her was one of her favourite things. She knew Santana had trust issues, her past was to blame for that. But it was because of incidents beyond Santana's control and with all the patience and love in the world, Brittany was always there for her. "Now," Brittany purred, gently pushing Santana back down on to the mattress, "let's get rid of these apple catchers." she smirked, tugging off the sweat pants which had pooled at Santana's ankles, before making quick work of the underwear and flinging it far away over her shoulder. "Next time," Brittany grinned, bearing down on Santana, "go without." she ordered.

"God Britt," a sudden wave of arousal hit Santana as the cool air hit her hot, wet centre. Their sobering conversation now completely out of mind. Her legs instinctively widened, enjoying the freedom she was now afforded. Brittany looked down, her eyes half lidded and hungry for Santana. Licking her lips subconsciously she eased herself forward. Her hands pushed against Santana's knees, widening her further, opening her up for Brittany to admire her in all her glory.

"You are so fucking hot Santana," Brittany purred, she leaned forward, her covered breasts pushed against Santana's as she kissed her hard with so much want and passion. Their tongues desperate for contact with one another. Santana squirmed and groaned as she felt herself becoming wetter. Possessive Brittany was such a turn on for her, she was in danger of an orgasm right there and then. She broke apart, desperate for that tongue to get to work in a more needy part of her body. The throbbing between her legs was too much, she needed to be touched before she exploded.

"Britt," she gasped, her legs still impossibly wide, "fuck me Britt, now." she ordered with a strained voice. The tension was too much, her blood was pumping furiously throughout her veins. Her body temperature was rocketing, beads of perspiration slowly covered her body as she writhed, willing Brittany further down her body. Her lover obliged, herself turned on by the state of her girlfriend, she was suddenly too hot herself, desperate to shed as much clothing as possible. With a practised ease she whipped her own tank top over her head, her breasts free and cool in the air conditioned apartment. "I fucking love your tits," Santana gazed as Brittany's boobs dangled above her, hypnotised her into a trance.

"Wait a minute," Brittany's voice strained as she reached between them, Santana gasped in anticipation, praying for Brittany's fingers to enter her. When the touch never arrived, brown eyes tried desperately to focus on what was or in this case was not happening. She watched as Brittany attempted to wriggle out of her shorts, wanting to feel her own skin upon Santana's. Unwilling to waste any more time, Santana sat up, her eyes now level with Brittany's breasts, looking up, she met the lust fuelled, hazy blue eyes of her lover. She smirked before latching her lips onto one of Brittany's erect nipples, earning a delighted gasp. While paying full attention to the breast with her mouth, Santana stealthily yanked down Brittany's underwear, causing a wave of goose bumps to caress the newly nude skin. She broke away, allowing her partner to completely loose her panties and shorts, Santana decided to utilise the time and threw off her tank top. Brittany kicked off the garments before straddling Santana, her wetness leaving a trail down Santana's bare stomach before settling into her lap. Santana groaned, her girlfriend was a super hot, sexy seductress and she wanted all of the blonde dancer, right now. She took a hold of one of Brittany's legs, lifting it slightly so she could release her own. Settling it back over one of Brittany's, the blonde new exactly what Santana had in mind and gently shoved her backwards on top of the bed sheets. They now straddled one another, Brittany shifted slightly, bringing them together, their hot wetness melting together. Both women gasped as their clits made contact with one another, Santana's wish for contact finally coming true, yet she needed more. She ground herself against her girlfriend, who in turn shoved back. Grappling around she found Brittany's hand and took it in her own as they began to slowly build a steady pace, rocking against one another, feeling each other against themselves.

From Santana's view, she could see Brittany towering over her, her naked glory like an artful masterpiece. She watched as the pace quickened, Brittany's head fell back, her eyes were closed, complete concentration upon her features. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, perspiration gathered and travelled south, between her breasts, down her toned abdominal muscles before being soaked up into the glowing soft skin. Santana could feel the pressure building in her stomach, she was growing tired, but she kept going, she was so close. She could sense it in Brittany also, the tell tale signs as Brittany's mouth dropped open, her exertions carried her forward, thrusting harder, they were both on the precipice. Santana clung to Brittany's hand tighter, squeezing gently, willing her darling to open her eyes. Nothing thrilled her more than watching the emotions dance across Brittany's eyes as they came together. It was euphoric, a symphony, a wailing crescendo. They smashed it together, it began rippling through them both, crashing against one another as the orgasms exploded within them. They were one. They both stilled, basking in the moment, not yet wanting to separate from the other.

Santana gasped as Brittany moved slightly, her thigh brushed delicately across Santana's sensitive clit causing her to shudder. A trail of Brittany's wetness trickled down the inside of Santana's thigh, this time her breath hitched . The things that girl did to her.

Brittany collapsed on top of Santana, her hand never leaving the one enveloping her own. Their breathing shallow and ragged, trying to catch up with their sated minds. If Brittany were to close her eyes for just a second, she would fall asleep atop her girlfriend. Santana wrapped her arms around her bed partner and wiped away a damp stray hair before she placed a loving kiss upon her forehead. Brittany hugged back, her eyes unwavering from her most favourite pair of eyes in the world, the eyes that had depths of the deepest oceans and beauty of the most breathtaking landscapes.

"I love you," whispered the blonde, her tickling breath causing Santana to wrinkle her nose. Unable to resist the cuteness, she placed a sweet kiss upon Santana's nose.

"Me too," Santana replied, unable to express herself with more words. The two lay there, content in one another's arms, just gazing lovingly at each other, never tiring of the view. No more words were required as their hearts thrummed in synchronicity to the beat of one tune.

xx

The monotonous groan of the conveyer belt provided nothing but the compelling urge to yawn. The black belt whirred, around and around, the occasional squeak a respite from the thrum of the monotonous hum.

"I can't believe you slept the whole flight," Santana grumbled as she watched patiently for their bags to appear. Brittany shrugged, stifling a yawn. "Seriously, eleven hours and you're yawning?" Santana complained.

"I obviously needed the sleep," Brittany surmised.

"Obviously."

"San, I'm sorry, I can't help it," Brittany moved behind Santana and wrapped her arms around her waist. She pulled her flush against herself and nuzzled away the cascading dark locks before kissing Santana's neck. "We're on vacation, you can have all the rest you want," Brittany's tongue sneaked out, she licked and nipped at her girlfriend's neck, "or not." she smirked. Santana raised an eyebrow over her aviators, her own grin appearing. She covered Brittany's hands with her own and squeezed gently.

"First," Santana said sternly, "we're dumping our bags, then we hit the bar."

"Done."

"Second," She pondered, mid thought, "No, wait, we hit the bar second." Brittany giggled and squeezed the warm body already firmly within her grasp.

"I love you."

"I need a drink."

"Really," Brittany began, her back straightened as she took a step back from her girlfriend. Brittany's brow creased, "you didn't have enough on the plane?" Santana huffed as she spun around, her eyes narrowed. Frustration and sleep deprivation was beginning to turn into angry.

"I don't fly well, ok?" she stropped, her hands flapped aimlessly at her sides. Brittany smirked, the petulant pout upon Santana's face was too cute to ignore. She stepped forward and immediately attached her lips to Santana's. The other girl sighed and relaxed, she placed her hands on Brittany's hips, and dropped her head onto her girlfriend's shoulder.

"I still love you." Brittany mused, running a hand through the raven locks.

"I know, I'm sorry, great way to start the vacation huh?" Santana snorted as she straightened. Brittany shrugged, taking everything as blasé as most things. It was one of the things Santana loved most about her, the trivial things never seemed to bother Brittany and subsequently, she was a calming influence on Santana. "I love you too." she offered with a sweet smile and a peck to the lips.

Xx

As soon as her back hit the mattress her eyes closed. Her mind shut down, her tiredness gave in. No matter how hard she fought it, the battle was lost. Her body relaxed and she fell into a slumber, one she had been so desperate for. Santana was exhausted. Her raven locks fanned out around her, framing her beautiful features. The gentle rise and fall of her chest was calm and even, the arm strewn across her stomach lay protective and still. She was peaceful and serene.

Brittany bristled through the room with an energetic excitement, peeking in cupboards, pulling out drawers and gazing with awe out of the window. Next stop was the bathroom. She bolted through the door as if a child was running into a candy store for the first time. She abruptly halted, her eyes widened as she took in the huge tub and walk in shower. "Ohmygod," she whispered to herself, her hand clutching her chest tightly as if her heart were to burst out of her chest. "Ohmygod," she said a little louder. Brittany whirled around and thrust herself back across the threshold and into the main room. "Santana, you should se…" Brittany halted as her knees met the bed, knowing better than jump onto the inviting mattress. She smiled at the sight before her, her eyes softened and her heart melted. Brittany knew Santana was tired, her snappy and grouchy behaviour since the airplane touched down was evidence enough of that. Secondly, Santana had told her as much and was seemingly envious of Brittany's ability to sleep during the flight. "Baby," Brittany cooed, gently running her hand over her girlfriend's bare calf.

Deciding it was best to let Santana sleep, she knew the wrath that would be unleashed should she wake the other woman from her much needed slumber. Brittany scribbled a quick note, leaving it next to the coffee machine, indicating she would be in the hotel bar for Santana to meet her when she woke up.

xx

Brittany was never short or shy of attention. Her career depended on it. Her personality thrived on contact with people. Brittany was most definitely a people person. She also loved to people watch, so rarely did she have the time to simply sit quietly and observe. Her time was usually spent either working, sleeping or with Santana. Not that she would ever complain about her situation, Brittany was the happiest she had ever been in her life, and the extra spring in her step was testament to that. Her mother was finally accepting of her relationship with Santana, although, deep down Brittany knew there would always be a little strain there. It was who her mother was and brought up to be, she could not help it. However, Valerie had made every effort to broaden her mind and seeing her daughter so hopelessly in love with Santana was catalyst in that change. There was little Brittany had to worry about right now. Life was good.

The bar was bustling with guests and patrons, the atmosphere was alive and buzzing. It was the ultimate vacation destination, definitely a holiday to remember. Brittany had always wanted to visit Hawaii and had pleaded her cause to Santana. Forever dressing up in hula skirts as a child, it was Brittany's dream to visit the island. Santana had not taken much convincing. One look at the pleading puppy dog eyes was enough for Santana to cave. She would do anything for Brittany, and Brittany knew it.

Brittany watched as the bar tender prepared her second cocktail, she grinned in anticipation. It was her intent to try at least one cocktail on each page of the drinks menu. She was on holiday, she was going to take advantage of every single moment. Her training regime be damned. Brittany had not had a proper vacation since she was a child. It was also a perfect opportunity to spend some quality, uninterrupted time with Santana. She beamed. Just the thought of the other woman sent butterflies to her stomach and an increased heart rate.

"Hey good looking," a voice interrupted her thoughts. A frown instantly formed her brow, that was not the voice that should belong to those words, yet the voice was light, airy, and distinctly feminine. Brittany turned in her seat and met the gaze of a stunning brunette, bright green eyes shone with amusement. It was the wrong brunette.

"Err, hey." Brittany responded, offering a polite smile. She shifted uncomfortably. While many things often flew by over her head, Brittany knew when she was being hit on and this woman, her poise, her gazing eyes, her smirk, screamed attraction toward her.

The other woman leaned against the bar, elbow propped, head resting upon her hand, she raised an eyebrow, "Can I buy you a drink?" her silky smooth voice caressed Brittany's ears. The blonde was momentarily entranced before the words penetrated her brain.

"It's an all inclusive bar," she frowned. Picking up the drink the bar tender placed before her, Brittany took a strong slurp from the straw. "I have one," she shrugged.

"Cute," the mystery brunette smirked before turning to the bartender. "I'll have what she's having."

"Sex on the beach?" exclaimed Brittany.

"If you're offering," came the sly response beside her.

"No!" Brittany spluttered. "I mean, that's…" she struggled for words, "that's what the drink is called. It's called Sex on the Beach." she managed to regain her composure, quickly taking a sip of the sweet liquid.

"I know honey," the brunette smirked once again, patting her hand on the dancer's strong thigh. "Oh my, do you work out?"

"I'm a dancer."

"Of course you are," green eyes travelled the length of Brittany's body, from the tips of her toes, up the bare toned calves, her thighs, over her short denim skirt, the tight tank top and settled on the blonde's shocked blue gaze. Brittany was speechless. Rarely was she perceptive to people's attraction to her, yet this strange, beautiful woman was nothing but brazen in her advances.

"I," Brittany began, "I have a girlfriend." she blurted. Willing for Santana to magically appear beside her. She would certainly put this other woman in her place. Brittany was growing increasingly uncomfortable, although she was too polite to dismiss the brunette.

The other woman nodded thoughtfully, "Right," she said. "So…" she trailed of with thought, "this so called girlfriend of yours…"

"She's sleeping," explained Brittany.

"Ooookaaay."

"No really, we had like totally hot amazing sex all night and we had an early flight and she couldn't sleep on the airplane, so she's like sleeping right now," Brittany concluded with nod. She brought the straw to her lips and took another prolonged slurp.

"Well you know what they say," the brunette stroked her fingers over Brittany's arm, watching her own ministrations before raising her eyes to meet the suspicious blue eyed gaze.

"That the word bed looks like a bed," Brittany nodded enthusiastically, "also, shark."

The other woman opened her mouth to say something, but was at a loss for words. Sure the blonde before her was smoking hot, but she seemed a little… out there. This would prove more difficult than at first thought. "Not quite where I was going," she managed.

"Oh right, so where were you going?"

"While the cat's away, the mice will play."

"You like Tom and Jerry too? I love that show."

"I," the brunette was flummoxed, never had she met anyone like the girl sat beside her. "Look, you're hot, I'm hot, you're 'girlfriend'," she paused, using air quotes, "isn't here, let's just get it on."

"I think it would be best if you do leave because my girlfriend will be pissed if she sees you hitting on me. She has knives."

"Is she some kind of psychopath?"

"I've been called worse," Santana smirked as she sidled up to Brittany, throwing a protective arm around her before leaning in for a very long, very sensual kiss. "Hey babe," she greeted Brittany, placing a gentle sweet kiss on the tip of Brittany's nose.

"Santana?"

"I," Santana turned at the sound of her name, "you? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, well, well, what a predicament we find ourselves in here," the mystery brunette smirked.

"You guys know each other?" Brittany quizzed with confusion.

"Oh honey," the stranger began, the grin upon her face was one of pure amusement, "we know each other _very_ well, if you know what I mean."

"San?" Brittany asked, her eyes pleading for an honest response.

"Britt, this is Gabby, my ex," Santana replied. Without warning, Brittany reached across Santana and slapped the smirking, green eyed woman across the cheek. "Britt, what…" Santana shrieked, pulling her enraged girlfriend away from her ex.

"You broke her heart," Brittany accused, pointing an angry finger at a stunned Gabby.

"She has gusto, well done Santana," Gabby recovered, "also, a little weird."

"Hey," Santana began, she too pointed accusingly at Gabby, "you do not get to say anything about her. Brittany is everything you are not." Santana let out a chuckle, "you know what? Thank you." she offered, "Thank you for being such a cheating whore, for being stupid enough for getting caught, because right now, I have everything I ever wanted or needed. I live in an amazing city, have the best job and the most incredible girlfriend who I love more than anything in the world. So Gabby, thank you." Santana spat. Gabby rose from her seat, cocking her head sideways. Never one to back down from a challenge, she smirked, this was going to be an interesting vacation for sure. It was a shame she only had a few days left herself. But thanks to her friend, Eva Lopez, she knew exactly where she could find Santana whenever she wanted to. She grabbed her purse from the bar, moved towards the couple and stroked her hand across Santana's shoulders before leaning in between the two, "I'll see you around."

"Don't count on it," Santana spat, shivering from the discomfort she felt.

"Say 'hi' to Eva for me," Gabby called out as she sauntered away.

"Shit," Santana slammed her fist against the bar, causing Brittany to jump.

"Hey," Brittany ran her hand down Santana's arm, picking up the clenched fist in her own, "hey, it's ok."

Santana all but glared at her, trying to keep her anger at bay, Brittany did not deserve Santana's wrath, she was an innocent party, "It's not, as per usual, she's wrecked everything."

"She hasn't."

"Yes Britt, she has," Santana argued, "this was supposed to be the perfect vacation, to get away from everything and everyone, to just be us. You and me, this was supposed to be the happiest two weeks of my life. She's ruined it."

"No, Santana," Brittany reasoned, "don't let her, it's exactly what she wants."

"What is she even doing here?"

"San?"

"Yes?" she almost snapped. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Brittany smiled, "all those things you said, about New York, about work, about me, is exactly why she hasn't ruined everything. I love you so much Santana and I have been looking forward to this vacation for so long."

"I love you too," Santana smiled, leaning in and resting her forehead against her girlfriend's.

"And what we have is so special San, you make me happier than anyone in the world and no one is going to burst our little happiness bubble. They've tried before, and they've failed. She can show up here and be all hot and Sex on the Beach, but you know what? She's no one. You're over her, she's the cheating whore who took you to New York, who brought you to me." Brittany concluded with a sweet kiss to Santana's lips.

"God I am so stupid," as Brittany began to shake her head, Santana gave her a stern look, "I am, and you," she paused, lacing her fingers with Brittany's, "you are so damn smart. I don't know if I deserve you."

"Of course you do Captain Grumpy Pants." the blonde smirked and bumped shoulders with the other woman. Santana's eyes went comically wide.

"Captain Grumpy Pants?"

"Had enough sleep now Princess Aurora?" Santana laughed at Brittany's nicknames.

"I don't know, I'm still a little sleepy, maybe I need my Princess Charming to give me my True Love's kiss," Santana smirked, her eyelids drifting shut as she inched closer to Brittany.

"Thant could be arranged," the blonde agreed, closing the gap. Their lips connected in a magical moment. Santana moaned as Brittany's hands reached up and tangled in her hair. Santana's lips parted, inviting the blonde's tongue into her mouth. Brittany obliged, she kissed Santana with as much love as she could muster, such tenderness and sensuality. Brittany sighed, one of her most favourite things in the world was kissing Santana and now here she was in a fantasy land with the woman of her dreams.

Brittany mumbled almost incoherently against Santana's lips, "I think I'll have a Screaming Orgasm next."


End file.
